


Shine

by greenwoodisgreat



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 1950s Setting, Drama, Eventual Smut, Heartbreak, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, coarse language, forbidden relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwoodisgreat/pseuds/greenwoodisgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard is a single father of three children. He has been alone for many years and longs for a partner. He thought he would remain alone for the rest of his life but then, an angel walked into the department shop where he works and Bard knew that he had found the partner he had dreamed of.</p><p>Updates will be irregular until further notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> After reading God knows how many fanfics about this pair, I decided to give it a shot in my own way. If you have stumbled across this and wish to read this story, there are some things you should know:  
> • It’s set in 1952, New York City. The story is also set over the Christmas and New Year period.  
> • The ages I’ve made up: Bard is 35, Thranduil is 24, Sigrid is 15, Bain is 12, Tilda is 6 and Legolas is also 6.  
> • The story is based on the film, Carol, starring Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara. The film really moved me and struck a chord with me so I decided to put Bard and Thranduil into that storyline :) Also, some of the dialogue and scenes will be altered according to the characters etc.  
> • DISCLAIMER: I do not own Carol or its script. I used it for my own entertainment and I will earn no profit from this work.  
> • The title is taken straight from the song by Years and Years of the same name which I listened to quite a lot while writing this.  
> • Most of the story will be from Bard’s POV but there will be Thranduil’s POV in it as well.  
> So, with all that information in mind, I hope you enjoy this story of mine :) It is my first time writing male/male so forgive me if it’s not very good. Any feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated, thanks :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another boring day at the department shop. Or at least Bard thought so until an angel entered his gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the first chapter! Hope you like it :)

“Are you ready, Sigrid?” Bard called from the front door.

“Coming, Da!” His eldest yelled back. Bard chucked his coat on and looping his dark scarf around his neck.

“Thank you for offering to look after Bain and Tilda, Mrs Baker.” He said to his neighbour. Mrs Baker was a 50-year-old woman who lived down the hall. For the years that Bard and his children had lived in the apartment block, Mrs Baker had become a very dear friend. She was such a kind lady that Bard couldn’t thank her enough for all the times she had looked after the children.

“It’s my pleasure, Bard.” Mrs Baker smiled.

“Da! When are you going to be home?” Bain asked, appearing around the corner. Tilda was by his side, her eyes big and watery.

“At about 6 o’clock. I promise I’ll be here for dinner.” Bard said to his son and daughter, a gentle smile on his face, small wrinkles creasing around his dark eyes. Then, Sigrid almost materialised out of nowhere, her hair back in a bun. She was dressed warmly for the winter weather, a simple necklace that had belonged to her mother sparkling on her neck.

“All packed?”

“All packed, Da.” Sigrid nodded.

“Right, let’s go. I’ll see you soon, darlings. Once again, thank you for looking after them.” Bard said to Mrs Baker. She folded her arms and smiled softly as Bard and his eldest daughter left the apartment. Sigrid was staying over a friend’s house for the night. He thought it’d be good for her, to get her jolly for the festive season. Being a single father of three children wasn’t easy for Bard. It was only his job that kept them on their feet. But they were his little gems and he wouldn’t have them any other way.

His car was parked in the street beside the apartment block and he helped Sigrid load her overnight bag in the back seat before hopping into the driver’s seat, his daughter next to him in the passenger seat. Its musky smell didn’t disgust either of them. It was a part of their life and they liked the car the way it was. It had been a gift from Bard’s wife parents and when she passed away, they had told him to keep it. As a memory of her. Bard missed his wife greatly. There were times when he wished she was still here on Earth with them. But she wasn’t. However, she had survived in their children and Bard loved them because he could see _her_ in them.

It was only a 15-minute drive to Sigrid’s friend’s place. When the car pulled up outside, Sigrid unclicked her seatbelt and leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek.

“Goodbye, Da.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 2, darling. Have fun.” Bard said. Sigrid flashed him a smile before getting out of the car and opening the back door, grabbing her overnight bag. She slung it over her shoulder and Bard watched her walk up to the front door. It opened and he saw his daughter’s friend appear. Sigrid waved at her father and he waved back. Once he saw her go inside, he drove off to work.

Bard worked at a department shop called _Dale’s Deliveries_ close to his apartment. It was large and was very busy over the Christmas holidays. His children, especially Tilda, loved it because their father working at a department shop was like a dream. It was Tilda who always asked her father if she could have something from there. Sometimes, Bard would say yes and sometimes, he would say no. she was upset when he said no but when he said yes, her face lit up like a star. And that was the best present Bard could receive. His children’s happiness.

He parked the car outside the shop and walked in. he was greeted by his boss, Alfrid, with just a simple “Hello”. Bard didn’t like Alfrid at all. He was rude and disrespectful and never said “please” or “thank you”. _How hard is it to say either of those two phrases? My children can do it and they’re so young!_ Bard thought. But he kept his mouth shut about it. The last thing he wanted was to lose his job.

Bard went to his locker at the back of the shop and took his coat and scarf off, leaving him in his pants and dark blue V-neck sweater. He had pulled the top-half of his dark hair back in a bun, leaving the rest to fall to his shoulders. It was lunch break for the workers so Bard went and had some food, talking with some of his colleagues. It was Alfrid interrupted Bard’s conversation with his co-workers.

“Bowman, you’re needed. It’s very busy out here.”

 _Can you **ever** say a term of endearment? _Bard thought. But Alfrid was his boss and he couldn’t say no. Bard finished his food quickly before walking out of the food area.

As Alfrid had said, the shop was very busy. Extremely busy. Children pulled their mothers and fathers along, pointing at toys. Bard saw a girl who was about 11 years old begging her mother to buy her one of the dolls behind the glass. People peered at the different toys, deliberating on what to get for the little ones in their family. Bard stood behind the desk, awaiting any customers. He saw Alfrid nodding at an item on the desk then pointing at his head. Bard looked down and pressed his lips together. A red Santa hat trimmed with white fur sat in front of him. He then realised that every other employee was wearing one to acknowledge the spirit of Christmas for the customers so Bard reluctantly put it on his own head, moving his hair out of his face. _Why can’t you wear one, boss?_ He growled in his head. He found himself looking around at the shelves, eyeing a doll that Tilda would no doubt love. His eyes wandered around the shop before his gaze fell upon a certain customer. Bard was certain that the customer was not a human being. It was an angel.

The angel had taken an interest in a train set at the front of the shop. He had long white-blonde hair that fell over his broad shoulders like curtains of hand-woven silk. His thick eyebrows were dark and his skin was the colour of snow. His lips were cherry-stained, slightly parted as he watched the train go round and round. Bard wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips of the angel but he quickly shook those thoughts out of his head. The angel was wearing a tailored suit with a black tie, a thick black coat over the top. His hands were hugged by black leather gloves. He looked rich. _Very_ rich. He was too beautiful to be real. Bard had been attracted to men before but that was before he had met his wife. But this angel, whoever he was, had awoken something within him that he had thought was long dead. Then, the angel looked in his direction. _God, his eyes…_ His eyes were like pale blue crystals, peering deep into Bard’s soul. They were shining and Bard couldn’t look away. A slight smirk came across the angel’s face. Bard’s stomach flipped and he swallowed deeply but he didn’t look away. In fact, Bard was so captivated by the angel with the white-blonde hair that he didn’t see a mother with her child in her arms appear in front of him.

“Excuse me, do you know where the restrooms are?”

Bard looked at the woman apologetically.

“If you go back past the elevators, turn right. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” The woman smiled and walked away in the direction that Bard had said. Bard looked back to where he had seen the angel but he was gone. He had disappeared. Bard looked around the shop but he couldn’t see the white-blonde-haired beauty anywhere. Bard sighed and went back to work.

He was fixing the arrangement of the toys in the glass cabinet underneath the desk when he heard the sound of gloves being slapped against a surface. Bard looked up to find the angel standing on the other side of the desk, his black leather gloves resting on the glass desk. He was even more beautiful up close. Bard was a little lost for words. _This man is a customer. Not someone I should get flabbergasted by._ He said to himself. Bard stood up as the angel began to speak.

“I’m looking for this teddy bear for my son. I wonder if you could help me.”

The angel’s voice was even more mesmerising than his face. A deep baritone that sent Bard deep into the depths of his attraction to men. He watched as the angelic man fished a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket of his coat. He placed it on the desk and Bard picked it up. It was a drawing clearly done by a child but Bard could make the teddy bear out. He had seen it before.

“Teddy Bear Ted. He talks.” Bard said.

“Does he?” The angel asked with a smile.

“Yes. But I’m afraid we’re out of stock, Mr…” Bard trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

“Greenleaf.”

“I apologise, Mr Greenleaf, but we have none left.”

“I’ve left it too long. My son will be disappointed.” The angel sighed. Bard felt sorry for him. He imagined a little boy’s face full of sadness. It reminded him of Tilda when she was upset. And for some reason, he wanted this angel’s son to be happy. No-one should be sad at Christmas.

“We have lots of other teddy bears that I’m sure your son would love. Lots of different kinds, um…” Bard trailed off as he nodded at the other teddy bears along the shelves to his left and behind him. He looked back at the angel who had been following his gaze.

“Hmmm. Well, what was your favourite teddy bear when you were a child? Do you remember?” He asked as he placed one of his pale hands into his coat pocket. Bard was so surprised that the angel was making conversation with him. No other customer had done it before. The thing that Bard regretted was that he showed his shock on his face.

“Me?”

The angel nodded.

“Well, I didn’t really…I don’t remember, to be honest.” Bard said. The angel extracted a cigarette from his pocket and placed it against those kissable lips. He began to light it but Bard raised his hand hesitantly, biting his bottom lip.

“Sorry. We don’t allow people to smoke in here.” He said. The angel sighed and took the cigarette out of his mouth, tucking it and the lighter back inside his coat pocket.

“For all the- Forgive me, I’ve never been good at shopping. Makes me nervous.” He groaned. Bard found it hard to believe that the angel could be nervous. _You make me nervous._ He said in his head and Bard made sure that those words never left his mouth.

“That’s OK, sir. I’ve worked here for two years and I’m still nervous about it.” Bard said, his cheeks flushing softly. The angel laughed and Bard’s stomach did another flip. A flash of pearly white teeth matched the sparkle in his crystalline eyes.

“You’re very kind.” He whispered with a smile. They locked eyes and Bard found it very hard to break contact. _Why did I have to meet this man at work? Why not on the street afterwards?_ He asked in his mind. Bard swallowed as the angel stared back at him, his lips tugging up at the corners. Bard hoped that Alfrid wasn’t watching. Then, the angel placed his right hand in the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and showed Bard. There, in a little plastic sleeve, was a black and white photo of a boy that looked about the same age as Tilda. He was smiling and his hair was short. Bard betted that it was the exact same shade as the angel’s.

“He looks like you.” Bard said.

“You think so?” The angel asked, glancing at Bard.

“Around the eyes. And you’ve got the same nose.” Bard nodded. He looked at the angel in front of him, eyeing the curtains of flaxen hair that contrasted with the dark colours of his attire. Bard wanted to kiss those lips and suck that skin so badly. _Stop it, Bard! What are you thinking?_ He cursed himself but he still didn’t take his eyes off him. The angel caught his gaze which led to an awkward moment that the angel blissfully saved.

“So, what did you want? When you were my son’s age?”

Bard thought about his question for a moment but he couldn’t remember. He looked over the angel’s shoulder quickly before staring at the angel again.

“A train set.”

“Oh, really? That’s a surprise! Do you know a lot about train sets?” The angel asked.

“I know a lot, actually. We’ve just got a new model in. it’s all hand-built and hand-painted. It’s a limited edition with the most advanced switching system yet. It’s very…” Bard trailed off. Some would say that his enthusiasm was great but Bard thought it was embarrassing. Because he was desperate to impress the beautiful angel and he wasn’t sure if he had gone a step too far. Bard looked at the angel to see that a small smile was on his face, reaching those piercing eyes of his. Once again, Bard swallowed a lump in his throat as the angel stared at him. It was then when he realised how tall the angel was. Bard was a tall man, averaging 6 foot but this angel had to be 6 foot 5. But him being so tall did something to Bard. Something swirled deep within him and he didn’t know what it was. Yet.

“You may have seen the train set. Just there by the elevators.” Bard informed, pointing at the train set. The angel named Mr. Greenleaf looked over his shoulder and saw the train set that he had been looking at when he first came in. He looked back at Bard who was blushing a little which did amazing things to his skin.

“Do you ship?” The angel asked.

“Yes, we do. You can have it in two days. We’ll even assemble it for you.” Bard said. That earned a smile from the angel.

“Well. That’s that then. Sold.” The angel replied, his eyes sparkling like the crystals that Bard had dreamed of. Another awkward moment arose when Bard just stared at the angel. The train set had been sold the day that it had been brought in. he imagined the angel’s son giggling as the train went round and round on the track in a circle. He was sure that Tilda would love it too. The angel’s eyes darted from Bard to the desk.

“Should I pay now?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Bard’s eyes widened and picked up a sales sheet from beside him. He slid it over on the desk to the angel with a black pen. Bard noticed that the angel was still staring at him but broke contact when he looked at the sales sheet.

“We’ll just need your account details and your shipping address.” Bard stated.

“Of course.” The angel responded smoothly. He picked up the pen in his right hand and began filling out the sheet. Bard admired the angel’s pale hands and long slender fingers. It was when he looked at his left hand that Bard’s heart fell. A golden wedding band was wrapped around the fourth finger of the angel’s hand. _He’s married…Of course he is. You only have to look at him to know that._ Bard thought but he hadn’t known that. He had just been caught up in the angel’s beauty to forget that he was probably already taken.

“I love Christmas. Well, I love the preparation. Wrapping gifts, decorating the tree, all of that. I do it for my son. But you somehow end up ruining the turkey.” The angel uttered, glancing at Bard for a moment.

“I love it too, sir. I do it for my children as well.” Bard said. The angel looked at him momentarily.

“You’ve got children?” He questioned. Bard nodded.

“Three of them. A boy and two girls.” _Why am I telling this man about my family? Well, he did tell me about his._ Bard said in his head. The angel continued to fill out the sheet as he continued to speak.

“No doubt you’ve got some hungry mouths to feed during this time of the year.”

“Yes, but I make do.” Bard smiled.

“I bet you do.” The angel murmured underneath his breath but Bard heard him. And the angel knew that he heard him too. The faintest of smiles came upon the angel’s pale face and Bard blushed a little again, his dark hazel eyes shining. The angel finished writing and slid the sheet and pen back over to Bard.

“There. Done.” He said. Bard looked over the sales sheets to make sure that the angel had filled out everything. All the while, he could feel a pair of sparkling eyes on him but Bard didn’t look up, afraid that he would stutter or embarrass himself even further in front of the beautiful angel.

“So where did you learn about train sets?” The angel asked with interest.

“I don’t know, really. I used read a lot. Too much, probably.” Bard answered, his head lowering and his eyes darting from the glass desk to the angel standing before him.

“It’s very refreshing, I grant you. Thank you for your help. And Merry Christmas.” The angel smiled.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” Bard responded. The angel turned around and walked away. Bard kept his eyes on him, clutching the clipboard on which the sales sheet was on. He took in everything about the angel. The manner in which he walked. His simple yet lavish style. His long hair pouring down his back. Even from the back, he was stunning. Then, the angel turned around and Bard found himself looking into his eyes again.

“I like the hat.” He whispered with a gentle grin, pointing at his own head. Bard’s fingers gripped the sides of the clipboard as he watched the angel leave the store, heading to the elevators. He had totally forgotten that he was wearing a Santa hat. But Bard didn’t feel embarrassment. He felt stimulation. In the blink of an eye, the angel was gone. Bard sighed. _Why am I so attracted to him? What would my wife think? My children? They have no concept on men liking men or women liking women! This is too much._ He thought. But he couldn’t stop his emotions. All he knew that within just one encounter, he was falling for the angel with the white-blonde hair.

Bard placed the clipboard on the desk and noticed something. It was the angel’s black leather gloves. They were sitting there innocently. Bard wondered if the angel had left them behind on purpose. He secretly hoped that he had. Bard couldn’t just throw them away so he decided that he would ship them back to the angel with the train set. He picked them up and turned around, the leather soft between his fingers. _They even smell like him._ Bard smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The term “angel” for Thranduil was inspired from ‘Season of Light and Shadow’ by EldritchMage (go check it out, it’s amazing!) because I thought it was perfect for his character. Please leave kudos and comments, they really do make me smile :)


	2. Plaguing Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard tries to distract himself by pursuing his photography skills with his children but he still can’t get the angel out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for the warm reception I received on the first chapter! All of you guys are so awesome :D I hope you like this second chapter as much as the first :)

It had been a day since Bard had met the angel named Mr. Greenleaf. It occurred to him that the angel didn’t know his name. _Jesus Christ, why didn’t I tell him my name?_ He cursed himself. But then he realised that he didn’t know the angel’s first name either. Given what he looked like, he probably had a beautiful upper class name that just rolled off the tongue. He thought of the beautiful angel all the way to his daughter’s friend’s house. It was ridiculous how much Bard was thinking about him. _I wonder how old he is._ The angel was definitely younger than Bard. He had looked so youthful but his eyes bore an archaic soul. _Perhaps that’s because of his son._ The angel had been so ageless and ethereal, like no-one he had ever laid eyes on before. _I’ve lived here for so many years so how come I’ve never seen him before. He doesn’t look like he’s just moved into the area._ Bard said in his head as he pulled up outside the house at 2pm.

He beeped the horn and Sigrid came out of the front door, her shoulder-length hair left loose. Bard unlocked the doors so she could put her overnight bag in the back seat. She dropped into the passenger seat, shutting the door as she did so.

“How was it, darling?” Bard asked as he pulled back out into the busy street.

“It was so fun, Da. Éowyn and I did each other’s make-up and hair. We even did it to her brother when he was sleeping.” Sigrid giggled.

“Naughty girls, you were.” Bard smirked.

“He didn’t mind. Éomer laughed it off.”

“And what about their uncle?”

“Théoden laughed too. He joked saying that Éomer should wear make-up more often.”

“That’s Théoden, all right.” Bard chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road as they drove home.

“How was work, Da?” His daughter asked.

Bard immediately remembered the angel’s white-blonde hair and crystalline pale blue eyes. His skin like snow. He wondered if it was as soft as snow as well. Bard’s foot nearly came on the brake when he thought of kissing the side of the angel’s neck. _I just met him yesterday!_ Bard bit the inside of his cheek as he swallowed.

“Da? Are you OK?”

Bard suddenly became aware that his daughter had a worried look on her face.

“I’m fine, darling.”

“Are you sure? You look distant. Has your boss done something?”

“No, no, Alfrid’s the same as always. Work was fine. Busy but fine.” Bard said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“What did you sell?” Sigrid asked.

“At least a dozen types of dolls and teddy bears. And a new train set.” Bard answered. As he spoke, he thought about the train set. It was on its way to the angel’s home. It would be there tomorrow. Along with the pair of gloves that he had left behind. Bard hoped that the angel’s son would like it.

“A train set? Bain will be jealous.” Sigrid smiled.

“He’ll get something better for Christmas.”

“Like what?”

“You think I am going to tell you? Presents are meant to be a surprise.” Bard said as he parked the car in the street next to their apartment block. He took his daughter’s overnight bag for her and they walked up to their apartment which was on the third floor. Mrs Baker was there once again, looking after Bard’s two other children. Bard gave her money in hand as a thank you and she left as Sigrid went to her room to catch up on the book she was reading.

Bard spent the rest of the day keeping his son and daughter occupied with a game of ‘Spot the Car’. Dinner was simple but kept the children from saying “I’m hungry” afterwards.

That night, when all three children were tucked up in bed asleep, Bard made the decision to tell someone about his encounter with the angel. It was tearing him up inside that he hadn’t told anyone. He couldn’t tell his co-works or his neighbours and definitely not his children. There was only person that he could trust with this information.

Bard went downstairs to the bottom level and slipped some change into the machine. He placed the phone to his ear and dialled his closest friend’s number. It rang three times before the person on the other end of the line picked up.

_Hello?_

“Hi, Percy.”

_Bard? Is that you?_

“Yes, it’s me.”

_Do you have any idea what time it is? It’s past 11 o’clock! Why aren’t you sleeping?_

“I can’t sleep.”

_Why?_

Bard took a deep breath and closed his eyes, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“I met someone.”

_Bard, that’s great! I met this someone is gorgeous. I don’t understand the problem._

“He’s married.”

_You know, I was going to guess that this someone was a male._

Bard could hear his smirk. Percy was the only friend that knew about Bard’s attraction to males. Bard had had flings in the past with men but they never lasted. However, this beautiful angel, he didn’t want to have a fling with him.

“I am a terrible person.” Bard said.

_No, you’re not. It’s not your fault that you’re interested in males. You can’t control it._

“I wish I could.”

_Well, you can’t._

“I know, Percy.”

_Is he gorgeous?_

“Yes, he is. It’s terrible. And I only just met him yesterday.”

_Yesterday?! Where?_

“At work.”

_Terrible place to meet someone._

“I know. Not to mention it’s not exactly recognised as being…normal to like the same sex.”

_That’s the downside._

“I’m going to get arrested.” Bard murmured, leaning his head against the phone machine.

_No, you’re not._

“What am I going to tell my children? They have no concept about this sort of thing.”

_Bard, don’t jump to conclusions. Look on the positive side. Did you flirt with the man?_

“Yes, I guess so.”

_Did he flirt with you back?_

Bard’s mind flashed back to the pair of brilliant eyes that locked to him when he wasn’t looking. The smirk on those perfect lips when Bard stuttered. The angel liking the Santa hat that he had on his head. It made Bard smile.

“Yes.”

_You see? I know you’re smiling. God, you’re so sappy sometimes, Bard._

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

_Depends._

“On what?”

_If it helps your cause with this man._

“But…I can’t be with him. He’s a man and he’s married!”

_OK, calm down. You just need to follow one simple rule._

“Which is what?”

_Don’t sleep with him._

“I can’t even kiss him. Why would I sleep with him?

_Because I know you want to. Don’t kiss him either._

“I’ll try.”

_If you ever need reminding of that, just give me a call and I’ll remind you._

“OK. Thank you, Percy. You’re a great friend.”

_I’ll always be there for you, Bard. Now go to sleep._

“I will. Goodbye, Percy.”

_Goodbye, Bard._

Bard heard the click of the line disconnecting and he hooked the phone back onto the machine. He leaned his head against the machine again and sighed deeply.

_This is going to be much more difficult than I thought._

**

 

After a difficult night’s sleep, he looked through the drawer beside his bed in the morning. He found his camera and the photographs that he had taken with it. Many of them were of his children. Smiling and laughing, jumping around in the apartment, sitting in the car. Bard sat down on the bed and flipped through them, smiling as he stared at the photos of his three children. They were his life. He wouldn’t be able to survive without him. Apart from love, they were the greatest gift that his wife had given him. He reached the pictures of his wife and began to reminisce about her.

Maria was her name. _Had_ been her name. Bard had met her when they were both 18. He was sure that he had fallen in love with her at first sight. And she with him. After sixteen years of marriage and three kids, Maria died when Tilda was born. His youngest had never known her mother and it broke Bard’s heart. After her death, he took up the responsibility of being both a father and a mother. Maria had been extraordinarily beautiful. Eyes like olives and almond-shaped with fair skin and bright pink lips. Her hair had been a light brown colour which Sigrid and Tilda had inherited from her and it had fallen in curls to her shoulders. Bard still missed her greatly. He then started to wonder about the angel and his son. _He’s married but where is his wife? Does she live with them? Is he totally in love with her?_ Bard couldn’t have an affair with him even if the angel wanted to. It was illegal and Bard didn’t want his children to be taken away from him.

To get his mind off things, Bard took all of his children outside. It was snowing softly so they were all wrapped warmly in coats and scarves. Bard had tucked his camera into the pocket of his coat and smiled as Tilda pointed in shop windows at dolls and toys while Bain had his mouth open, his tongue out, catching snow. Sigrid had hooked her arm through her father’s as they walked down the busy New York street. Bard was laughing at Tilda’s excitement about Christmas when his gaze took him over the side of the street and his breath hitched his throat. It was the angel from the shop.

He looked just as beautiful and unspoiled, his skin matching the colour of the falling snow. He was dressed in a suit again with his black coat. All of his white-blonde hair had been tucked inside over his left shoulder. He was alone and was smoking a cigarette, the smoke puffing out of his perfect lips. Then, Bard noticed that the angel was wearing his black leather gloves. _He got them._ Bard smiled to himself. The angel took another puff of his cigarette and looked Bard’s way. He could see the small smile on the angel’s face as they looked at each other from across the street. His cheeks were a little pink from the cold but that just enhanced the beautiful pallor of his skin. Bard felt his daughter’s hand tighten on his arm and he looked at her.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re OK, Da?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Now, how about we take some pictures?” Bard suggested with a smile. Tilda and Bain nodded enthusiastically and Sigrid dropped her arm from her father’s. He took out his camera and began snapping pictures of his children, enjoying the snow as cold breath issued from their mouths. Sigrid noticed that her father had been getting distracted about something. When he had said he was fine, she wasn’t convinced.

 

**

 

That afternoon, _Dale’s Deliveries_ was once again busy with parents and family members buying presents. Bard had been dealing with a very picky male customer, doll boxes open strewn over the desk. It was exhausting. Bard had been talking to the man for at least ten minutes and he was afraid that the man would have enough and leave the shop. Then, Alfrid saved him. _I never thought I’d say that._ Bard said in his head.

“Bowman.”

Bard looked up and saw his boss beckoning him over with his finger, the phone in his other hand.

“Over here. Now.” Alfrid ordered. He gestured for another worker to take over from Bard.

“I’m sorry. Excuse me. Peter will help you.” Bard apologised as he walked over to Alfrid. His boss handed him the phone, a contemptuous look on his face. Bard ignored him as his boss walked off and placed the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

_Is this employee 872-B, Bard Bowman?_ A woman’s voice asked.

“Yes, it is.”

_We’re just patching you through, sir._

Bard waited in silence for a few moments before a beautiful deep voice came out of the phone.

_So it **was** you._

Bard’s face went completely blank and his mind went into meltdown. It was the angel. The angel had called Bard. And he couldn’t believe it. An image of him blew up in Bard’s mind, long white-blonde hair and eyes like crystals. Bard glanced at Alfrid who was helping Peter out with the picky customer that Bard had been dealing with.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Greenleaf. Did you receive the train set?” Bard asked.

_I did. And thank you for shipping my gloves with it too. You’re a gem for sending them. I just called to say…thank you, really._

“Of course, sir. They were yours. I had to return them to you.”

_As I told you, you’re very kind._

Bard’s heart melted at the words that the angel was saying. His voice was just as attractive as his face and frankly, Bard didn’t think it was fair. He had never been so nervous talking to someone on the phone before. _This man makes my stomach turn just over the goddamn phone!_ Bard yelled in his mind. Then, Bard heard a crash in the background.

_Oh, shit. Sorry._

“Are you OK, sir?”

_Yes, I’m fine. Just dropped a saucepan. I’m on dinner duty tonight._

“Oh, what are you making?” Bard asked without even thinking ahead. _Damn it, Bard! Why did you ask that?_ He could practically hear the angel’s smirk on the other end of the line.

_Sausages with mash potatoes. It’s my son’s favourite._

“It’s my son’s favourite too.”

There was silence. An awkward moment arose and all Bard could hear was the sizzling of sausages where the angel was.

_Well, I was wondering if you get lunch hour where you work? Let me take you out to lunch. It’s really the least I can do._

Bard was in shock. He couldn’t fathom the idea that the beautiful angel was offering to take him out to lunch as a thank you. _Seeing you is a thank you enough._ Bard wanted to say but he didn’t.

“Uh, I… Well…of course. But you really don’t-” Bard began but the angel interrupted him.

_I insist. How does tomorrow sound?_

“Tomorrow? Yes, that sounds good.” Bard agreed.

_Do you know Rivendell Restaurant?_

“No, I don’t.”

_I’ll tell you the address._

“Alright, hold on.” Bard lowered the phone and looked at Alfrid who was pouring over sheets on a clipboard.

“Can I perhaps borrow a pencil and paper?” He asked. Alfrid sighed and pressed his lips together. He handed a piece of paper and a pencil over to Bard who nodded at him in gratitude. The angel told him the details and Bard quickly scribbled them down.

_That’s it. I’ll see you tomorrow at 1 o’clock._

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Greenleaf.”

_Thranduil. My name is Thranduil._

“Thank you, Thranduil.”

_I look forward to seeing you, Bard._

And the line was gone.

Bard slowly placed the phone back onto its hook and looked down at the address that he had written down on the paper. He smiled to himself but his happiness didn’t last long. Alfrid made him get back to work but the one thing Alfrid couldn’t do was read Bard’s mind. There was just one single sentence going through his head.

_He knows my name._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry the updates are so short! Hopefully, they’ll get longer :) Please leave kudos and comments if you haven’t already! See you soon for the next chapter :)


	3. You Intrigue Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Thranduil converse over lunch. Thranduil attends a friend’s party with his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another chapter for you guys, it’s longer than the previous two :) Thank you so much for reading, I love you all! <3

Bard stood in front in of _Rivendell Restaurant_ at five minutes to one, wrapped in his coat and scarf. He had pulled his hair back in a bun, keeping it out of his face. He had dressed nicely, wearing his best pants and pale blue dress shirt, leaving the collar open. Mrs Baker was looking after the children again. It never ceased to amaze Bard how she said yes every time they need looking after. His children had asked where he was going because it was too early for him to go to work. He told them he was going out to lunch with a couple of friends. It was half true. He was going out to lunch but not with his friends.

He waited until it was 1 o’clock but he couldn’t see Thranduil anywhere. No flash of long legs or silken hair. Bard decided to give him a bit of leeway and continued to wait outside. It was ten past when he went inside and waited at their table. He was freezing and the restaurant was wonderfully warm. Everything was either a deep mahogany colour or dark red. The seats were comfy and Bard took off his scarf and coat as he peered out of the window. He checked his watch and saw that the time was 14 past one. _He probably has a very good reason for being late._ After all, the angel was rich. Being fashionably late was probably in his vocabulary.

When Bard looked up from his watch, he saw the angel rushing across the street. His coat was a dark grey this time and he had a pair of sunglasses on, his long legs carrying him across the road and into the restaurant. The angel spotted Bard and dropped into the seat opposite him, taking off his coat as he did so. He was wearing dark silver suit pants, a white dress shirt with a matching grey vest and suit jacket. Bard could see the muscles in the angel’s shoulders under the suit jacket and it made his stomach squirm. The top-half of his white-blonde hair had been pulled back in an elegant fishtail braid, the loose locks pouring over his broad shoulders. He was ridiculously gorgeous and it wasn’t right.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Thranduil apologised.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Bard said. The angel softly smiled at him and the waiter appeared. He placed two menus on the table but Thranduil was already ordering his food and drink. _He’s clearly been here before._ Bard thought.

“I’ll have the cooked scallops with cream and salad. And a dry white wine. Thank you, Lindir.”

The waiter nodded as he scribbled it down. Then, he and Thranduil looked at Bard who realised that he hadn’t opened his own menu. He didn’t want to keep the waiter waiting so-

“I’ll have the same.” Bard said hesitantly.

“The meal or the drink?” The waiter named Lindir asked as he collected the menus back.

“Uh…both. Thank you.” Bard nodded. The waiter walked off, menus in hand. Thranduil clocked Bard’s uncertainly and took out his silver case where he kept his cigarettes. He took one out and lit it from himself. The smoke came out of his mouth and Bard could only blush. The angel smirked as he offered a cigarette to Bard. To Thranduil’s surprise, Bard took one and the angel lit it. Bard hadn’t smoked for a long time and used to only do it with friends. A social smoker, Bard was. He couldn’t refuse the angel’s offer and smoked the cigarette with no reluctance.

Thranduil leaned back in his seat, holding the cigarette between his long slender fingers, throwing one leg over the other underneath the table.

“So, where are you from, Bard?”

Bard looked at him, taking a puff of the cigarette.

“Wales.”

“I thought your accent was Welsh. When did you move to New York?”

“I came here with my wife. I’ve been living here ever since…she passed away.” Bard answered, lowering his eyes to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” Thranduil said.

“Thank you. Have long have you lived here?”

“I was born here. But I don’t live here in the city. I live in a house in the country away from the cars and people. I like peace and quiet.” Thranduil answered.

“I wish I lived in a house. It’d be easier to look after the children.” Bard said.

“Speaking of your children, they’re beautiful. They look very sweet.”

Bard looked at the angel and saw a smouldering look in his burning pale blue eyes, taking a puff of his cigarette. He remembered when they had locked eyes across the street on the previous day. Luckily, his children had not noticed that it was the angel he had been staring at.

“Thank you.” Bard whispered again.

“What are their names?” Thranduil asked.

“My eldest is Sigrid. Then there’s Bain and little Tilda.”

“It must be difficult to look after them all on your own.”

“It sometimes can be. But I’ve got a wonderful neighbour who takes care of them when I’m busy. Like today.” Bard responded, leaning back in his seat, smoke issuing from his mouth. He scratched his stubble and rested his free hand in his lap. He was still nervous but talking to Thranduil made him feel free. He could tell him anything. _No, I can’t. I just met him, for God’s sake._ He told himself. He noticed that the angel had not taken his eyes off him and he gulped.

“So, is your son your only child?” He asked. The angel nodded.

“Yes, he is. And he’s one spoilt little boy.”

“What’s his name?”

“Legolas.”

“Legolas. Nice name.” It rolled off Bard’s tongue, just like the angel’s name. _You’ve got a nice name too._ Bard wanted to say but shook that thought to the back of his mind. There was silence for another moment before the waiter returned with their drinks. Thranduil picked up his glass in a toast.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Bard repeated and they clinked their glasses. He watched Thranduil sip his wine before sampling his own. A fruity taste flooded Bard’s mouth as the alcohol ran through his veins. It was delicious. But it was strong and Bard tried to hide how strong it was but to no avail, for Thranduil smirked at him when he noticed.

“So, I’m sure that you thought a beautiful woman returned your gloves to you.” Bard spoke.

“On the contrary, no. I knew it was you.”

“How did you know?”

“I just knew.” Thranduil replied, smirking once again before puffing his cigarette, sighing as he locked his eyes to the older man’s bearded face. A faint blush crept along Bard’s cheek as he took a large sip of his white wine. It relaxed him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Thranduil’s eyebrows creased together over his crystalline eyes.

“Nothing.” Bard murmured.

“If it makes you feel better, if it _was_ a woman who returned my gloves, I wouldn’t have gone out to lunch with her.”

 _That smirk again…_ It took all of Bard’s strength to not throw himself over the table and ravenously kiss the angel into oblivion. _He’s married and he’s flirting with me! Is he just as mad as me?_ For some reason, that gave Bard comfort. Keeping the cigarette, Thranduil readjusted his watch. Bard saw that it had a gold band with a white clock face, the numbers one to twelve in Roman numerals. It sure looked expensive. Bard would never be able to afford it. But Thranduil was rich. And he could have many things that he wanted.

“Your watch…” Bard muttered.

“Yes?” Thranduil raised his eyebrows at Bard, taking the cigarette in his long fingers again.

“It’s beautiful.” _Like you._

Thranduil looked at his watch, moving his wrist, letting the gold catch the light at a different angle, giving it a different shine.

“Thank you. Elizabeth bought it for me, before we got married. I’ve worn it ever since.”

Bard was suddenly interested at the mention of Thranduil’s wife. He rested his forearms on the table, the cigarette still in his right hand, smoke coming from the end.

“Elizabeth is your wife?” Bard knew that Elizabeth was Thranduil’s wife but he just needed clarification. The angel nodded.

“Yes. Well, technically we…We’re in the middle of a divorce at the moment.”

Bard remained silent. _So he’s not going to be married soon. But the point is he’s still married. Bard, you cannot do anything with him. Not even if he wants to._ He told himself as he stared at the stunning angel sitting opposite him.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly.

“Don’t be.” Thranduil smiled, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray in the centre of the table. Bard did the same. He had had enough of smoking for now. _What is he playing at? I know I’m attracted to him but how in the hell can he be attracted to me? I’m not his type. I don’t even know his type. God, why is it like this?_ Bard’s mind was going to chaos and no words left his mouth. Thranduil noticed how anxious Bard was and decided to change the subject.

“How old are your children, Bard?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“Sigrid’s 15, Bain is twelve and Tilda’s six.”

“Ah, Tilda is the same age as Legolas. I’m sure they would get along splendidly.”

“You think so?” Bard asked. The angel nodded and sipped his wine again, that burn in his bright eyes sending shivers down Bard’s spine.

Lindir returned with their food this time. It certainly looked very good. Thranduil picked up his silver cutlery and smirked at Bard.

“I’m starved. _Bon appetit_.” He said before digging elegantly into his food. Even the way he ate was beautiful. Bard still thought the angel was too perfect, too impossible to be real. After staring at him for a couple of moments, Bard followed suit and ate his food. The scallops were cooked to perfection and the cream over the top was delicious. The salad was refreshing and the wine was a welcome refreshment in between bites. He looked up to see the angel looking at him, his fork dangling from his pale hand.

“Yes?” Bard asked, trying his best to be polite.

“I was wondering, what do you do on Sundays?”

“Nothing much. Why? What do you do?”

“Nothing much.” That made Bard swallow his food a bit too quickly and the angel could only smirk, his eyes glowing. Bard coughed and sipped his wine.

“Food go down the wrong way?” He checked. Bard nodded, patting his chest before picking up his fork.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. As I was saying, I was just wondering, seeing as you’re not doing much, you could visit me this Sunday if you want to. Your children are welcome to come as well. There’s some nice country out where I live and my house has lots of rooms for them to explore.”

Bard stared at Thranduil in a mixture of surprise and shock. _Another proposal? Seriously?_ He couldn’t believe how well the past few days were going. If he said yes, the children were sure to ask questions and Sigrid would certainly be suspicious that her father was spending so much time with a man. A much younger one at that. _He’s probably only 24 or 25. God, he became a father young. But then again, so did I._ Bard said in his head.

“Are you sure?”

“100 percent. Legolas would love to have a playmate. Something tells me that Tilda would be the perfect one.” Thranduil nodded, his pale fingers wrapping around his wine glass. Bard wondered what those fingers would feel like when they stroked his skin, moved over his lips, carded through his dark hair.

“Yes. My children and I will come.” He answered. A tender smile pried Thranduil’s lips open and Bard saw his perfect teeth flash in the light. He so badly wanted to feel those red-stained lips pressed against his own, those fingers caressing his face. But it was just a fantasy that Bard had in his mind and it would be a miracle if it ever came true.

“What a strange specimen you are.”

Bard snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the angel’s voice. He stared into the crystals for eyes and found himself falling into an abyss that he didn’t want to come out of.

“Why?” Was all Bard could ask.

“Flung out of space.” Thranduil murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. Bard felt himself blush and he placed all of his attention onto his food and glass of wine, oblivious to the look of lust in the angel’s eyes.

They finished their lunch and exited the restaurant. Bard and the angel bid farewell to each other with a firm handshake and Bard felt sparks cover his heart at the contact. They locked eyes just for a moment until a loud beep from a car horn made them break the moment. With one final smile, Thranduil ran across the road, his hair catching the afternoon sunlight, turning the strands a bright gold. Bard watched as the angel climbed into a convertible on the other side of the street. He spotted a woman with hair the colour of burnt copper, all of it pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Thranduil and the woman greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek and from the smile on Thranduil’s face, Bard figured that the woman was a close friend of his. It definitely wasn’t his wife, Bard could just tell. The angel turned around and waved a gloved hand in Bard’s direction. Bard waved back as the car drove off down the road, disappearing into the traffic.

Bard stood alone on the pavement outside _Rivendell Restaurant_ , his coat and scarf back on and his cheeks pink from the cold. The sun sent a shade of brown through his dark hair, a few strands coming loose from the bun. He rummaged in his pocket and extracted the napkin that the angel had given him, the details about Sunday written on it with a black pen.

_Mr. Thranduil Greenleaf. Mirkwood Lane entrance. 2:00pm Sunday._

Bard smiled to himself as he headed off for another shift at the department store. The smile on his face never disappeared.

 

**

 

The wind whipped Thranduil’s hair as Tauriel snaked along Sixth Avenue, her gloved hands on the steering wheel as they passed cars on the road. She had been kind enough to offer to drop off Thranduil at a party that one of Thranduil’s wife’s friends had organised. A celebration of Christmas. Thranduil was reluctant to go because his wife’s parents and they had never really liked them. They thought of him as pompous and grandiose. Sometimes, Thranduil had no idea how he had married Elizabeth when her parents didn’t like him at all.

“Elizabeth’s father will murder me if I show up looking like this. Maybe you should drop me home quickly so I can change.” Thranduil grumbled as he fixed the collar of his coat.

“Don’t be an idiot, Thranduil.” Tauriel responded, keeping her eyes on the road.

“How about I just don’t show up?”

“Because Elizabeth will kill you and I’ll be blamed. You’ll just have to grin and bear it, Thranduil.”

Thranduil grumbled as he tried to tame his hair which was currently billowing around his face and out behind him. He closed his eyes briefly and an image of the dark-haired older man came into his mind. Warm dark eyes that sparkled and that scruff around his lips and his chin. He really was a handsome man. He remembered when he had seen him in the street with his children. Bard seemed like such a wonderful father as well as a wonderful person. Thranduil was definitely looking forward to Sunday. He opened his eyes and watched as the buildings and cars flew by, a gentle smile on his face. Tauriel looked at him quickly.

“So, you want to tell me about him?” She asked. Thranduil placed his hand in his hair and glanced at Tauriel, their eyes locking for a moment.

“You mean Bard? He returned my gloves when I left them at the shop he works in.” He shrugged, running a hand through his flying white-blonde hair. He placed his sunglasses on and he heard Tauriel sigh.

“Covering your eyes isn’t going to do anything, my friend. So what is it about this guy that interests you so much? You know Elizabeth won’t be happy.”

“She’ll never know. Do you _ever_ put the top up?” Thranduil said, deliberately changing the subject, bundling up, folding his arms, keeping his coat closed. It was cold enough but Tauriel always had the hood of her convertible down. It was ridiculous. One time, it had been snowing and she still hadn’t put the top up.

“Only when I want to, Thranduil. You know that.” Tauriel answered with a cheeky smile, her green eyes shining. Thranduil glanced at her before turning his attention back to the buildings of New York. Tauriel was telling the truth, he admitted it. Elizabeth would be furious if she found out that her husband was spending time with an older man that he had met in a _shop_. But Thranduil didn’t want her to know. Things were already bad enough between them. Even with Legolas, things were still bad. They currently had joint custody of him and he would be staying with Thranduil until Christmas Eve.

It was early evening when Tauriel pulled up at the circular drive of the large modern house. It was the residence of Catherine Smith, one of Elizabeth’s closest friends, and her husband, John. The sun had gone and the sky had turned a deep blue colour, with a tinting of purple. Thranduil saw lights on in the house and he heard music playing. Tauriel turned off the engine and turned to Thranduil who was combing his hair with his fingers in agitation.

“I wish I had a hairbrush right now.” He grumbled, his eyes like a cold fire. Tauriel leaned over and placed her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze.

“You look fine, Thranduil.”

He looked at her and rested his large hand over hers, his expression falling.

“Come in with me. Please, just for a minute.”

“Don’t start that again, Thranduil. You are the one that cancelled on us, you nitwit!” Tauriel exclaimed but managed to smile while speaking.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m going in now.” Thranduil said. And with a deep breath, he got out of the redhead’s car, gathering himself, rolling his shoulders back as he looked up at the house.

“Call me later.”

“I will, Tauriel.” Thranduil replied as he walked up the path, hearing the roar of the convertible’s engine and the sound of wheels on concrete as Tauriel drove off.

Thranduil walked up to the front door and was allowed in immediately. The party was in full swing and men and women chatted to each other, holding glasses of wine and beer in their hands. He walked down the steps to a lower level, taking his gloves off and placing them in his coat pocket. He took off his coat and placed it on the hook where the coats of the guests hung. Thranduil scanned the large living room until he found her.

Elizabeth Greenleaf was talking to John. It was clearly something important just from the way they were looking at each other. John looked past Elizabeth and saw Thranduil. They acknowledged each other with a nod of the head. Elizabeth noticed this and looked over her shoulder to see her husband standing on the other side of the room. His wife had always been an absolute beauty. Eyes like fresh sapphires and long golden locks that were always done up in a complex bun with silver clips enhancing the curls in her hair. She was the same age as Thranduil and looked just as ethereal as him. She excused herself from John’s presence and walked over to her husband.

“You came.”

“You’d kill me if I didn’t.” Thranduil responded with the same bluntness. Elizabeth looked up at her husband with cold eyes. Even with heels on, she was still six inches off him. She looked like she was about to quarrel with him but Thranduil had not come to argue with his wife.

“Would you like to dance?”

Elizabeth’s sapphire eyes widened at his suggestion but she nodded. Thranduil offered his left hand out to her and she slid her right hand into his palm. He wrapped his fingers around hers and placed his other hand on her waist. Tonight, she wore a dark grey-blue dress that had three-quarter sleeves with a neckline that covered her chest. Her lips were coated with a bright red lipstick and gold earrings swayed from her earlobes. Elizabeth placed her left hand, which was still adorned with her wedding ring, on his upper arm and they slowly began to turn in a circle, keeping in time with the soft slow music. Elizabeth rested her head on his chest, his hair a cushion for her cheek.

“You’re always the most handsome man in the room.” She whispered and he felt her fingers squeeze his. Even after only five years of marriage, Thranduil managed to smile at his wife’s compliment. He looked over at the entrance to the room and saw Elizabeth’s father standing there with a dismissive expression on his face. Thranduil’s smile faded.

“Tell that to your father.” He murmured back, keeping his eyes to his father-in-law. He looked like he had just swallowed a clove of garlic and his eyes were rigid with disdain.

After they danced, Thranduil and Elizabeth went to the dinner buffet, filling up their plates with food. John and Catherine joined them, also piling food onto their plates. They were the couple that Thranduil wished he and Elizabeth were. But John and Catherine didn’t have any children. It was a difficult thing having a small child and going through a divorce at the same time. It never made Elizabeth nor Thranduil feel good. But they made do like they always had.

“We’re thinking about hiring a local young man to be Santa for Legolas at Christmas. We’re still trying to figure out a way for him to come down the chimney! How did you arrange it before, Thranduil?” Catherine asked as all four of them sat down. Thranduil had been deep in thought and a tap on the arm from his wife.

“Sorry?” He said.

“Christmas morning with Legolas. What do you do?”

Thranduil exchanged a brief glance with Elizabeth before answering.

“Elizabeth and I usually…wrap up Legolas’s gifts together, put them under the tree and wait for Legolas to wake up. Which he…he normally…” He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. His eyes became distant and he looked lost. Elizabeth wondered what was affecting her husband in this way. John and Catherine looked at each other awkwardly so Elizabeth decided to step in and help Thranduil.

“He comes down the stairs like a bullet and completely ignores us until he’s ripped open his presents.”

Thranduil glanced at his wife with appreciation and smiled faintly at John and Catherine.

“Yes. That’s what he does.”

“But no Santa Claus?” Catherine asked.

“No.” Thranduil replied simply. He just wanted this conversation to be over. So he took the opportunity and rose from his seat, half of his food still uneaten. Elizabeth watched as her husband walked up the stairs to the second level, his hair still as a rock down his back.

Thranduil reached the second level of the house which was still bustling with people. He squeezed through them until he came to a halt in front of one of the large windows that overlooked the large garden outside. The sky had turned a deep blue and the stars were twinkling. It reminded Thranduil of the sparkle in Bard’s dark eyes.

He reached into the inside breast pocket of his suit and pulled out his silver case. He plucked out a cigarette and his lighter before tucking the case back inside his pocket. He lit the cigarette and took a long puff of it as he stared outside. The lunch with Bard had been very fascinating for Thranduil. _He was so nervous._ There was something about the father of three that riveted him. And he didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see Bard on Sunday.

Thranduil took another puff of his cigarette when Catherine appeared next to him, an unlit cigarette in her hand. She too was a gorgeous woman. Caramel-coloured hair that was pulled back in an elegant bun. Garnets hung from her ears, making her deep green eyes. Her sleeveless dress was black, ending just beneath her knees. Matching velvet gloves that went all the way up past her elbows hugged her arms and she had a hopeful smile on her face.

“Do you mind?” She asked. Thranduil nodded and lit her cigarette with his lighter. Catherine took a long drag from it and let the smoke emerge from her mouth.

“Keep an eye out, will you, Thranduil? John will go crazy if he catches me smoking.”

“What will he do? Chuck you out?” Thranduil laughed, taking his own puff of the cigarette, twirling it in his fingers.

“He doesn’t like me to smoke.” Catherine said.

“So? You enjoy it.” Thranduil shrugged, looking out of the window, down into the garden. He knew how it was. Wives tended to deter their husband’s wishes. Elizabeth was no different. She had done things the opposite of what Thranduil wanted. He wondered what Bard’s wife was like. _She was probably just as kind as he is._ Thranduil, although he was at the tender age of 24, was an old soul. He had always been that way. It was what enthralled Elizabeth about him. And that’s how he felt about Bard. He was attracted to him.

“Thranduil?”

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s not really my business but are you going to be alone this Christmas? John and I would love to have you.” Catherine said positively as wisps of smoke wafted out around the two of them. Thranduil was touched by the proposal. He’d always liked John and Catherine but he had better plans in mind for Christmas. Maybe something with a person with dark hair and warm eyes.

“Thank you for the offer, Catherine. But I’m actually planning to get away by myself. At least for a few days.”

“Are you sure?”

Thranduil nodded and took another puff of his cigarette, his mind on the coming Sunday.

 

**

 

It was almost midnight when Elizabeth dropped her husband home from the party. They walked up the driver together as Thranduil fished his keys out of his coat pocket. They reached the front door and Thranduil unlocked it.

“Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight, Elizabeth.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He began to push the door open but Elizabeth grabbed his arm, stopping him. Thranduil looked down at her in surprise. When she didn’t say anything, he pressed her for an answer.

“What is it?”

“Come to my parents for Christmas, Thranduil. We had a nice time tonight.” Elizabeth said with a gentle smile which reached her sapphire eyes. Thranduil didn’t want to be impolite but he didn’t feel like spending Christmas with the in-laws that didn’t exactly like his company.

“It was one night, Elizabeth.” He sighed.

“I don’t like to think of you. Being alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got Legolas. And there’s also Galion…” Thranduil stopped himself before he could say anymore. Elizabeth let her hand fall from his arm and she glared up at him.

“Galion. There’s always Galion.” She muttered with gritted teeth. The story with Galion was as follows.

Thranduil had met him at school when they were eight years old. They were the closets of friends. They were teenagers when they embarked on a romantic and sexual relationship with one another. After he met Elizabeth and got her with child, Galion stayed friends with Thranduil. And he was grateful to still have a friend in him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was not grateful. His gay relationship was something that she was not proud of and when she found out, a rift had been driven in their lives. It was Legolas that kept them together until the divorce came along.

“Galion and I were over before you and I were over, Elizabeth.” Thranduil growled.

“Are you two really over? You spend a lot of time with him.”

“Yes, we’re over. He’s my butler, for Christ’s sake! Of course we stayed friends. How could we not after what we went through?”

Elizabeth was about to retort back but Thranduil cut her off with a cold stare.

“You’ve dissuaded my wishes, Elizabeth. I’m entitled to dissuade your own.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together and Thranduil placed his hand on the door.

“I’ll have Legolas ready for you at five on Christmas Eve.” He said without looking at her. He pushed open the door and stepped inside the house. He then heard his wife’s voice.

“It shouldn’t be like this.”

Thranduil turned around and rested his hand on the inside of the door. Elizabeth’s eyes were bordering on tears and her bottom lip trembled slightly. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. This wasn’t what their married life was supposed to be like. But it was. Fate carried them this way and they couldn’t change it. Thranduil didn’t want to change it.

“I know.” He whispered and shut the door in his wife’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there’s a lot of dialogue and I apologise! I hope you liked it, leave a comment if you have a minute to spare :) Next chapter, we see Legolas!! Yay! :D


	4. Christmas Is Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil drives Bard and his children to his house where they meet little Legolas. The attraction between Bard and Thranduil grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Legolas is introduced! I hope you enjoy this update :) :)

“I’m so excited, Da!” Tilda squealed.

“I know you are, darling.” Bard smiled, keeping a hold of his daughter, her small hand encased in his. It was just on 2 o’clock and the family of four were standing outside _Dale’s Deliveries_ , waiting for Thranduil to pick them up. All of them were bundled up in their coats, scarves and hats, watching as cars drove up and down the road. Tilda could hardly stand still, full of energy and delight. Even though he didn’t show it, Bard was also excited. He was looking forward to seeing the angel that he was already falling for.

“So where is this guy’s place, Da? Jersey, did you say?” Bain asked.

“Yeah, I think so. He lives in the country.” Bard answered.

“How did you meet this man again?” Sigrid questioned.

“I met him at work. He was a customer and he left his gloves behind. In returning them, he offered to have us all come to his place as a thank you.” He said, placing his free arm around his eldest daughter’s shoulders. Sigrid peered at her father curiously as he gazed at the cars, waiting for one to pull up.

“Is the house big? Will there be a Christmas tree?” Tilda squeaked, looking up at her father hopefully.

“I’m not sure, darling. I assume so.” Bard replied, squeezing her hand and giving her a gentle smile. Then, the beep of a car horn made Bard look up. The angel pulled up in a sleek car that fit five people perfectly. _Thank God!_ Bard thought. The angel got out of the car and Bard closed his lips to stop himself from gasping. Thranduil was dressed once again in an expensive suit that was tailored but with no tie this time. His coat was a black military one that fell to his ankles. Sunglasses sat on his nose, covering the bright colour of his eyes, and his white-blonde hair was loose, portioned perfectly over his shoulders and down his back. He stepped up on the sidewalk and took his sunglasses off.

“Good afternoon, Bard.” The angel smiled.

“Good afternoon, Thranduil.” Bard smiled back. They shook hands and Thranduil’s gaze went to the girl standing next to Bard.

“And you must be Sigrid.” He took hold of her hand in his gloved one and pressed a small kiss to her knuckles. The fifteen-year-old was no short of surprised at the man’s introduction. He smiled at her before moving onto Bard’s son.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bain. You’re a fine young man indeed.” Thranduil said, holding out his hand. Bard nudged his son in the shoulder and Bain shook the man’s hand.

“It’s good to meet you too.”

Then, Thranduil looked down at the little girl clinging onto Bard’s hand. She was an adorable human being and he had no doubt that Legolas would love her. A red beanie was keeping her head warm, her short hair tied back in a knot at the nape of her neck. She was a vision of liveliness and happiness and she brought a smile to his face.

“And you must be Tilda.” He said, leaning down to get closer to her height.

“Hello, Mr. Thranduil!” The little girl cried. Bard smiled down at his daughter, his arm still around Sigrid’s shoulders. Thranduil took her small hand in his large gloved one and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Your father speaks highly of you.”

“Do you, Da?” Tilda asked, looking up at her father. Bard looked at Thranduil who was staring back at him with the corners of his perfect lips turned up in a smile. He returned his attention to his little daughter and nodded.

“Yes, I do.” He answered. He locked eyes to Thranduil for a brief moment before all the kids piled into the back seat of the car. Bard got into the passenger seat while Thranduil hopped into the driver’s seat, popping his sunglasses in the glove pocket of the car. The car looked way more expensive than Bard’s and it smelt nicer. It had that new smell, like it had been bought yesterday.

“Is everyone ready?” Thranduil said, adjusting the rear view mirror with his hand, so he could keep an eye on the three children. They all chorused with a “yes” and then, they were off, driving down the busy New York street.

“So, how was work since I last saw you?” Thranduil asked.

“It was fine. Busy for Christmas, you now.” Bard answered.

“Thank you for recommending the train set. I have a feeling that Legolas will love it.” Thranduil smiled, glancing at Bard. Bard returned the glance and nodded.

“You’re welcome.”

Thranduil tightened his fingers on the steering wheel as Bard placed his hands on his knees, looking out of the windscreen. They both smiled to themselves and unbeknown to them, Sigrid had noticed their smiles.

The car zoomed on the road, making their way through the city as a warm winter sun streamed through the car windows. Thranduil seemed relaxed behind the wheel, his crystalline eyes on the road ahead. The children were delightfully quiet in the back but every now and then, the adults could hear Tilda squirming with anticipation. To Bard, the world inside the angel’s car was a totally different experience than being in his own car. The seats were a comforting beige leather and the dashboard was made out of mahogany. It matched the elegance and the beauty of its driver. Being in the presence of this young angelic man, who was so mature and sophisticated for his age, was intoxicating. His attire practically radiated wealth and made Bard feel so daggy and so much lower in society than him, which he was anyway.

Thranduil was so mysterious but that’s what drew Bard to him. He wanted to get to know him more, spend more time in his company. Music drifted into his ears as the car entered Lincoln Tunnel, plunging them into semi-darkness as if passing into some sort of cocoon. Bard heard Tilda gasp behind him. _She must be alarmed being in the dark._ He thought. From the rear view mirror, he saw Bain and Sigrid looking out of the windows, watching as the lights in the tunnel flashed past as well as car upon car on the other side of the road. Bard’s gaze went to Thranduil, whose fingers gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes wide as he looked where he was going. The side-view profile of his face was something that made Bard’s heart jump. The strong bridge of his nose and his brow, his lips pressed together in concentration. Bard couldn’t remember a time when he himself was that beautiful. He was certain that he never was. He hadn’t been clean-shaven for many years and had no plans of being so. Thranduil, however, was hair free on his face. His skin looked so smooth and the lights in the tunnel reflected in his eyes. A girl’s voice brought Bard out of his intense staring.

“Mr. Greenleaf?”

Bard looked over his shoulder to discover that it was his eldest child that had spoken. Thranduil looked at her in the rear view mirror momentarily.

“Yes, Sigrid?”

“Could you perhaps put some music on?”

Bard looked at Thranduil who nodded in agreement.

“Of course.” He answered. He took his right hand off the wheel and switched on the radio. Jo Stafford’s song ‘ _You Belong To Me_ ’ came on. Bard looked at Thranduil with wide eyes and the angel smirked at him before turning his eyes back to the road. Bard swallowed as he leaned back in his seat, folding his arms as they continued to speed through the tunnel.

 

**

 

An hour into the journey, Thranduil stopped the car outside a Christmas store.

“What are we doing here?” Bard asked as Thranduil turned off the engine.

“We’ve got a Christmas tree in the house but no decorations to put on it.” He explained. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at the three children.

“Would you like to help me pick out some decorations?”

Tilda’s face lit up like the star at the top of a Christmas tree, her light blue eyes glittering.

“Oh, yes, please!” She cried. Within seconds, Bain and Sigrid agreed. Thranduil turned to Bard.

“Could you look after the car? We won’t be long.”

Bard nodded and all five of them exited the car. The three children ran in front of Thranduil and the angel turned around to flash Bard a huge grin. Bard’s stomach churned with something that definitely wasn’t nausea. Thranduil and the three children walked into the store, leaving Bard alone by the car. Snow began to fall softly and flecks of it stuck to Bard’s hair and the shoulders of his coat. He opened the car door and reached into his case, fishing out his camera. The film was already inside so Bard rested his elbows on the top of the car window and snapped a picture of the Christmas store. He didn’t wait more than five minutes before his children and Thranduil emerged from the shop’s door. He held one bag in his gloved hand and Sigrid held another. Bain was carrying a box of baubles and Tilda was skipping ahead, a Christmas star wrapped in a plastic box in her small hands. She squealed when she realised it was snowing, smiling and pulling on her older sister’s hand. Bard took a few pictures of his children before taking some of the angel. He got a few good ones. Thranduil’s hair ruffling in the wind. Him looking into the distance. Pointing out the Christmas trees that were positioned outside the store to the three children. Bard lowered the camera and bit his lip. The angel was so good with his children. He thought that Thranduil was probably an amazing father, given the way he treated children that weren’t his. It brought a smile to Bard’s face.

Tilda came running over to her father, a bright smile on her face.

“Look what we bought, Da! And Mr. Thranduil said we could help him and Legolas decorate their tree.” She cried.

“That’s sounds great, darling. I’ll take that. You get in the car.” Bard said, putting his camera back in his bag and taking the Christmas star out of his daughter’s hands. Once all the children were in the car, Thranduil walked around the hood of the car and Bard kept his eyes to him.

“You got everything you need?” He asked.

“Yes. Your children were a great help.” Thranduil smiled as he and Bard got into their seats, shutting the doors at the exact same time. The engine roared to life and the radio came back on. They were off again.

 

It was another hour before they reached Thranduil’s house. It was huge but Bard had expected it to be anyway. It had two storeys and looked beautiful. Bard could only imagine what it looked like inside.

“It’s so big!” Bain cried.

“Do you think Legolas and I could play Hide and Seek in there, Da?” Tilda asked. Bard looked at Thranduil for a moment before returning his gaze to his daughter.

“It’s not my decision. It’s Thranduil’s house, not mine.”

“Could we, Mr. Thranduil?” Tilda stared at the angel with big puppy dog eyes.

“I am sure that Legolas would enjoy that very much.” Thranduil smiled at the little girl. Tilda grinned and began to move in her seat with excitement. Thranduil shut off the engine and the car came to a standstill. He got out as did Bard and his children. Bard was about to walk forward when a little boy with white-blonde hair came charging out of the house with a large grin on his face.

“Ada!” The boy exclaimed.

“Hello, my little leaf!” Thranduil smiled, reaching out his arms just as the little boy flung himself into them. Thranduil picked him up and pressed a kiss to his small cheek. Bard felt like he was witnessing a very private moment between father and son. He spotted a man, who looked about the same age as Thranduil with dark brown hair standing on the threshold of the house, his hands clasped behind him. Bard wasn’t the only one that was nervous. He could feel Tilda’s hand tighten in his and she hid behind his legs. Bain was a little apprehensive but Sigrid stood by her father’s side, her head held high with confidence.

The little boy flung his arms around Thranduil’s neck in a tight hug and Bard saw him stare in his direction with wondrous but anxious bright eyes that looked so much like his father’s.

“Ada, who are those people?”

Thranduil turned around to see Bard and his children all standing next to the car, trying to look assertive but Thranduil could see that they were a bit uneasy.

“This, my little leaf, is my friend, Bard, and his children.” Thranduil whispered to his son, walking over to the family of four.

“This is Sigrid, Bain and Tilda. Children, this is my son, Legolas.”

At the mention of his name, Legolas buried his face in Thranduil’s neck. He was scared and neither Bard nor Thranduil could blame him. The angel sighed and looked down. He saw Tilda’s little face peek out from behind her father’s legs and he gave her a gentle smile.

“Come out, little one. If you do, Legolas won’t be scared.”

Just the way he spoke to Tilda made Bard want to kiss Thranduil forever. He was so kind and so reassuring. Bard had trouble believing this was happening. It hadn’t even been a week since he had met the angel and now, he and his children were at his house. _Is this more than friendship?_ Bard didn’t know the answer to his own question and it would bug him the rest of the night.

He knelt down and placed his hand on Tilda’s back.

“It’s OK, darling. Say hello to him.” He murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek softly. The little girl shakily stepped forward, her short legs covered in grey wool tights, her tartan-patterned dress hanging to her knees.

“Hello, Legolas. My name is Tilda.” She squeaked. No-one said anything, everyone’s eyes on Tilda and Legolas. Then, after a few moments, the little boy moved his face out of his father’s neck and looked at the little girl.

“I’m Legolas.”

Thranduil smiled widely at his son, patting his stomach. He put him on the ground and all of a sudden, Legolas’s fright completely disappeared. He told Tilda that they had a huge Christmas tree inside and in return, Tilda told him that his father had allowed her and her family to help them decorate it. Legolas laughed excitedly, grabbed Tilda’s hand and practically dragged her into the house. Their giggles could be heard and it made both fathers smile at each other.

Bard and Thranduil picked up the Christmas items that had been purchased at the store while Sigrid and Bain entered the house, following the sound of the little chuckles of Tilda and Legolas.

“I think they already like each other.” Thranduil smiled.

“It seems so, doesn’t it?” Bard responded. _I think we like each other too._ He thought which made him blush very faintly but Thranduil noticed it and he smirked to himself. They reached the door where the man with the dark hair was still standing.

“Oh, Bard, this is Galion. He’s my butler. Galion, this is my friend, Bard Bowman.” Thranduil introduced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Galion bowed his head. Bard thought it was a little formal but he nodded, wanting to be courteous.

“You too.” He said. Galion nodded back and quickly glanced at Thranduil, an uncertain look in his eyes. Bard wondered why the butler was so…unhappy. He didn’t look it. Galion disappeared into the house and Thranduil sighed. Bard was just about to reach out and place his hand on the angel’s arm but Thranduil had smiled and moved away, walking into the house. Bard took a breath before following him inside.

The inside was just as magnificent and beautiful as the outside. It was so _open_ , entrances leading to two different sitting rooms and kitchen. There was a staircase that led up to the second level and the windows were the length of the wall, cool light pouring inside. It was so old but so stunning. Bard couldn’t believe that he was standing in such an upper class house. He felt out of place. His eyes were locked to the pale ceiling when he heard the angel’s voice.

“Are you OK?”

Bard looked in the direction of the voice and found the angel leaning against the edge of the wall, taking off his leather gloves. He had shed his coat, revealing his classy suit. The light colour of his hair contrasted beautifully with the dark colour of his gloves. His lips were parted and his gaze was gentle. Bard wanted to drop everything and press Thranduil back into the wall, fist his hands in his hair and crush his mouth against his. Bard wanted him. He really did. So badly.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just never…”

“Never been in a house owned by a rich person?” Thranduil guessed. Bard stared at him and nodded his head. Thranduil sighed and chucked his gloves on the table sitting up against the wall in front of him.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you?” Bard’s eyebrows rose.

“You think you don’t belong here. That you’re too lowly to be in this house.” Thranduil said without a hint of hesitation. _How does he know that? Are my facial expressions and body language **that** obvious? _Bard said in his head. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair and let out a long sigh, looking at the polished wooden floor.

“Let me tell you something, Bard. You’re here because I invited you. Because I _wanted_ you to be here.”

Bard raised his eyes from the floor to stare at the angel who had just spoken. He wasn’t smiling but the way his face was, Bard could tell that Thranduil was telling the truth. He felt his heart rise and its beat thumped a little faster. Thranduil saw a thin layer of pale pink serenade the older man’s cheeks and he smirked.

“I’ve noticed that you blush every time I say something nice to you.”

That made Bard blush even more. He couldn’t look at him now.

“I’m sorry.” Bard murmured.

“Don’t say that. Here, let me get your coat for you. I must be a good host for my guests.” Thranduil smiled. Bard placed the bag of baubles on the floor and pulled his coat off his shoulders. The angel walked behind him and helped him out of his coat. His hands briefly brushed Bard’s shoulders and shivers ran down his spine. He could feel Thranduil’s warm breath on his skin and goosebumps covered his flesh. Thranduil was hanging Bard’s coat on the hook next to his own when Tilda came running down the hall.

“Da! Legolas and I want to decorate the tree now!”

“OK, I’m coming.” Bard said, picking up the bag of baubles and following his daughter as she ran back to the sitting room where the Christmas tree was. Thranduil stayed where he was, admiring what Bard was wearing. A pair of suit pants that looked a little ragged but he knew that Bard had tried his best to look good. A turtleneck olive green jumper hugged his arms and shoulders and Thranduil could see the muscles underneath. Bard’s dark hair was left out and a few flecks of snow remained stuck to the strands. Thranduil so desperately wanted to pluck them out and run his hands through Bard’s hair. He wanted to make it even more messy than it already was. Bard felt eyes on him and turned around to see Thranduil staring at him very intently.

“Are you coming?”

Thranduil smiled at Bard and nodded.

“Of course. The children will need our help.”

Bard discovered that the angel’s statement was indeed true. Little Tilda and her new friend, Legolas, decorated the lower parts of the tree very carefully while Sigrid and Bain hooked baubles onto the spiny branches. Thranduil and Bard placed the string of golden lights around the whole trees. Tilda and Legolas demanded to do the tinsel and the adults knew that it was pointless to argue so they allowed them to do so, giving them assistance when they needed it. Last but certainly not least, it was time for the star.

“Who wants to put the star on the tree?” Thranduil asked with a smile, holding it up for all to see. Tilda and Legolas immediately started to yell “Me! Me! Me!” so they were forced with a dilemma. Who out of the two children was going to do it?

“Legolas, you’ve done it three times. Tilda, you can do it.” Thranduil said, handing her the star.

“Really?” She smiled, holding it carefully in her delicate hands.

“Yes. You don’t mind, do you, little leaf?” Thranduil looked down at his son. The little boy shook his head.

“No, Ada. Tilda can do it.”

“Thank you, Leggy! Thank you!” Tilda said, pulling her new friend into an extremely tight hug. The nickname “Leggy” made Thranduil and Bard glance at each other and leer at one another.

“But how is Tilda going to reach the top?” Bard asked, gesturing to the beautifully-adorned tree. Thranduil didn’t say anything and simply lowered himself to the floor, bending his knees. He looked at Tilda and tapped his shoulders. Bard then realised that the angel was telling his youngest daughter to sit on his shoulders. Thranduil looked at Bard who had wide eyes.

“I’m tall enough. She’ll reach if she’s on my shoulders. I promise I won’t drop her.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Bard responded and nodded at Tilda. The little girl swallowed and walked behind Thranduil. She hooked one leg over his shoulders but had trouble hooking over the other one. Bard stepped into help. He stood in front of Thranduil and grabbed his daughter’s hips, lifting her up on the angel’s shoulders. It was only then when Bard realised that the apex of his thighs was eye-level with Thranduil’s face. _Seriously?_ He cursed in his head and stepped away, revealing Thranduil’s smirk that he had hidden.

Thranduil slowly stood up to his full height, Tilda holding on for dear life with her free arm since the star was in her other hand. The angel placed his hands on Tilda’s knees, keeping her secure. She was tall enough to place the star on top of the tree and it was finally completed.

“Look how beautiful it is!” Thranduil declared.

“Pretty tree!” Legolas and Tilda chimed together while Bard, Bain and Sigrid admired their work. Thranduil got Tilda safely back on the ground and what they didn’t see was Galion standing a fair distance away, watching his once-lover and the new guy laugh with the four children.

 

Bard and his children were leaving before dinner so snacks and nibbles were served by Galion and once the kids had eaten, it had already gotten dark. Legolas took Tilda upstairs to show her his room while Sigrid prowled the small library and Bain went through the records upstairs. Bard and Thranduil were left alone downstairs and both of them were glad to have some time to themselves.

A fire was crackling in the sitting room where Thranduil sat on the carpet near the tree, quietly wrapping up the train set for Legolas. Bard sat at the black grand piano opposite, his fingers hitting the keys. He jumped out of time, skipping pieces and improvising as he went along. It was Maria who had taught him how to play. Frankly, she had taught him more things than he had taught her. And that’s why Bard had loved her so much. He still did.

“Bard, was it me you taking pictures of at the Christmas store?”

Bard froze and he stopped playing, his fingers falling off the keys. _Shit! He saw me._ He thought, swallowing deeply.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked you.”

“Don’t apologise.” Thranduil murmured. Bard looked at him, the corners of his lips pulled up in a “thank you” smile. The angel looked so ravishing on the carpeted floor. He had taken off his suit jacket, leaving him in a white dress shirt that accentuated his strong muscular torso and arms. His suit pants clung to his long legs and his feet were bare, just as snowy-white as the rest of his skin. The fire reflected in his crystal-like blue eyes, shadows dancing over his face. His hair was falling over his shoulders exquisitely. But Bard stayed seated before the piano.

“A couple of my friends have told me that I should be taking more pictures of people than buildings and animals. That’s what I usually tend to photograph. Animals and civilisation.” Bard said.

“And how’s that going for you?” Thranduil asked. There was silence as Bard returned his gaze to the angel on the floor. The train set was disguised with red wrapping paper and the way Thranduil was siting made something twitch in Bard’s pants. He wanted to capture him this way in a photo. _But I can’t just ask! He might find me...odd._ And Bard didn’t want Thranduil to think of him as odd. Little did Bard know that Thranduil didn’t think of him as odd. He thought of him as attractive.

“Quite well, actually.” Bard answered. _It’s going well because of you, you beautiful bastard!_ He shouted in his head.

“I’m glad.” Thranduil smiled. Bard looked away and placed his fingers on the piano keys again. He began to play a soft slow tune that Maria had taught him many years ago. It had stuck with him and whenever there was a piano around, it was always the song he had played first. Thranduil listened as the sound of the piano echoed around the room, bouncing off the windows. He hoped that none of the children would come down and break this moment. Fortunately, there wasn’t so much as a giggle or a sound from the second level. Bard closed his eyes and imagined himself and the angel dancing to the melody. The image was vivid in his mind. Their arms around each other’s waists and their hands locked together as they swayed side-to-side. Bard had his nose buried in Thranduil’s neck while the angel leaned down to kiss the tip of his ear. A smile ghosted over his face and Thranduil spotted it.

He rose from the floor with a grace that could not be taught. He walked over to Bard and stood behind him. Bard opened his eyes, feeling the closeness between him and the angel.

“You’re a beautiful player.” Thranduil whispered, placing his large pale hands on the older man’s shoulders. Bard froze at the angel’s touch. It was like he had been electrocuted, volts charging through his body. He felt the angel’s fingers glide over his cheek before moving through his hair. Bard thought he was dreaming. He wanted to pinch himself. He closed his eyes and opened them again but the scene hadn’t changed. It was reality but it felt like a fantasy.

“Thank you.” Bard said and continued to play. Thranduil let his hands fall from the man’s thick hair and he walked around him to where a small couch was.

“So is that you want to be? A photographer?” He asked.

“I’d like to be, yes. If I have any sort of talent for it.” Bard replied.

“Is talent not what people tell you that you have?”

“I guess so.” Bard said just as he finished the song, his hands falling into his lap. Thranduil stepped up to a small table next to the couch where a box of cigarettes sat. He took one out and lit it, a bright orange burning at the end of it.

“Will you show me your work, Bard? I can tell you if you have any talent in photography.” Thranduil said, sitting down on the couch. He threw one leg over the other and took a puff of his cigarette. Bard was surprised by the angel’s desire to see his photos but nonetheless, he agreed.

“Sure, if you want to. I’ve never sold or even shown a picture to anyone who could buy one.”

“I’ll buy one.” Thranduil stated bluntly.

“You haven’t even seen them. I don’t even have a reasonable camera. All of the pictures are at my apartment, in my chest of drawers.” Bard said in response.

“Invite me round then.”

Bard stared at Thranduil with wide eyes, the pupils dilating from shock. The angel smirked as he puffed his cigarette, a thin cloud of smoke floating around him. Bard opened his mouth to reply but the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway cut him off. The flash of headlights blazed past the thin curtains that covered the window. Thranduil stood up, pulled the curtain away and looked outside. He groaned inwardly.

_Oh, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, who’s arrived? I’d love to know your speculations :D


	5. An Altercation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth turns up and dampens the Christmas spirit. And it hits both Bard and Thranduil hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments!! I love you all! Enjoy the new chapter :)

_Oh, shit._

He felt as though a bucket of ice-cold water had been chucked over him. His fingers gripped the curtain tightly, his lips contorted in a furious frown. A car door slammed shut outside. Bard worried about Thranduil’s stillness. He didn’t move.

“Thranduil?” He said. The angel turned around but didn’t look at Bard. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table, his hair covering his face. Both men heard the door open and Thranduil rushed out, standing next to the wall.

His wife walked in, shutting the door behind her. She was wearing a coat with a matching red hat on her head. Her legs were covered in thin tights and he could see the deep scarlet colour of her dress through the opening of her coat.

“Elizabeth. What’s wrong?” Thranduil asked. The blonde-haired woman peered at him curiously.

“Nothing’s wrong. Does there have to be a predicament for me to visit my husband?”

Thranduil resisted the urge to say yes but didn’t. Elizabeth approached her husband but then, she saw Bard sitting at the piano in the sitting room, looking at her uncomfortably. Elizabeth looked at Thranduil who looked away. She pressed her red lips together and walked past her husband, all the way down the hall, stopping in the living room opposite. Bard clocked it all. _She sure is beautiful. I wonder why they’re divorcing._ He said to himself. He looked at Thranduil who rubbed his forehead in frustration. He had no idea what his wife was doing here but he needed to find out. He made eye contact with Bard and mouthed “ _sorry_ ”. Bard nodded and the angel walked down the hall to join his wife.

Bard hoped that none of the children had heard any of the commotion. Luckily, there wasn’t the thundering of people running down the stairs. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost twenty past six. He heard nothing. The house was quiet apart from the sizzling of the fireplace. Bard rose from the piano set and prowled along the bookshelf behind him. Classics were there. _Wuthering Heights_ , _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , _Jane Eyre_ , _Pride and Prejudice_. Bard smiled. _He’s a romantic, that’s for sure._ He plucked out an old book with faded yellow pages and began to flick through it. He heard voices drifting from the other room and he couldn’t help but listen to what they were saying.

“…that’s not fair, Elizabeth. Legolas is staying with me until Christmas Eve. We agreed on that.”

“What do you suggest then, hm? I don’t fancy going to the West Palm Beach all by myself. It was all my father’s doing.”

“But I’m…not…ready. _He’s_ not ready! For all I know, he’s asleep. What about _my_ Christmas with my son-?”

“I’m sorry, Thranduil, but it’s done now.”

“No, it’s not done, Elizabeth!”

“The flight’s in the morning? You think _I’ve_ packed?” There was a crash that made Bard look up from the book, his fingers taut against its spine.

“Jesus Christ!” He heard Elizabeth scream. Bard flinched and he heard the sound of heels of wooden floorboards. Thranduil’s wife appeared at the entrance to the sitting room, one hand on her hip. Bard could see why the angel had married her. She was stunning. Her blonde hair was up in a bun and her red lips matched the long-sleeved red dress she wore.

“How do you know my husband?” She asked. Bard swallowed and Thranduil appeared behind his wife.

“Elizabeth, please…” He begged, rubbing the back of his neck. Bard didn’t want Thranduil to defend him. He wanted to defend himself. He was a grown man and he could survive a woman’s interrogation.

“I work at _Dale’s Deliveries_ , the department store.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, her fingers tightening on her hip.

“Well? Is that it?”

Bard was about to answer but Thranduil beat him to it.

“I ordered a gift for Legolas from his desk. I left my gloves there and he returned them. I invited him here as a thank you.”

“That’s bold.” Elizabeth scoffed, glancing at her husband over her shoulder. Thranduil and Bard locked eyes for a moment before the blonde-haired woman turned around and walked back down the hall, the sound of her heels echoing around the house. The angel rubbed his mouth and chin with his left hand, sighing. Bard placed the book back on the shelf and looked at Thranduil worriedly.

“Can I do anything?” He asked. The angel shook his head.

“No, just leave it be. Go and check on your children, Bard.” He said, and with a swish of his hair, he went back to his wife.

Bard stood there helpless near the piano, his fingernails digging into his palms. _His wife is taking Legolas away from him. I can’t imagine how that would feel._ Bard didn’t want to imagine it. So he went upstairs to see where his three beloved children were.

 

**

 

Legolas was confused as his father hooked him into the back seat of Elizabeth’s car. He was holding a small teddy bear to his chest and he was dressed warmly, a little dark green beanie crowing his white-blonde hair. Thranduil heard Galion place Legolas’s bag in the back as Elizabeth stood outside the front door, puffing a cigarette.

“In bed by eight, remember. I know that you like to wrap Grandpa William around your little finger.” Thranduil whispered, running a finger down his son’s cheek. Legolas smiled cheekily and Thranduil chuckled softly. He knelt down on the pavement outside, leaning inside the car from the open door. He blinked away tears. He didn’t know how long it would be until he would see his son again. He was going to miss him so much.

“OK, little leaf, give me a big hug.”

Legolas threw his small arms around his father’s neck and hugged him tightly. Thranduil embraced him back, his large hands splayed over his back, his nose buried in his shoulder. Legolas always gave good hugs.

“You’re going to have a wonderful Christmas, my little one. I promise.” Thranduil murmured, kissing the side of Legolas’s head. The little boy pulled back from the hug and looked at his father with saddened eyes.

“There’s room for you here in the car, Ada. You can come with us!”

Thranduil let out a teary chuckle, managing to smile at his son’s suggestion. He took hold of Legolas’s wool-gloved hands in his own.

“Oh, little leaf, I wish I could. I really do. But sometimes, Nanas and Adas decide that there isn’t enough room for both of them in the same place at the same time…” Thranduil couldn’t speak any further, choking back tears. He tightened his hands over his son’s much smaller ones and gave him a smile.

“And Ada has to stay here to make sure that Santa doesn’t give your presents to another little boy. You wouldn’t want that, would you, little leaf?”

Legolas gave him a bright smile and shook his head. Thranduil hugged and kissed him again, saying goodbye and promising him that they would see each other soon. He looked at the chauffeur at the steering wheel through the rear view mirror who was staring back at him. Thranduil stared coldly at him before hugging his son warmly, never wanting to let go.

Inside the house, Bard stood back in the sitting room. His three children were still in house: Sigrid in the library and Bain looking after Tilda in the large living room on the other side of the house. Bard made the decision to tidy up a bit, making himself useful, lining up books in the shelves and records in the cabinet next to the piano. He looked out of the window and saw Thranduil shutting the car door, blocking Legolas from sight. Tilda was the most perplexed and upset why Legolas had to go and Bard told her that his mother had come to pick him up. When she asked if she would see Legolas again, neither Bard nor Thranduil answered her. Because the truth was they didn’t know.

Outside, Thranduil began to walk back up to the front door but Elizabeth stubbed out her cigarette on the ground under her high-heeled shoe and approached him out on the pavement. She reached out and touched Thranduil’s arm, burying her face in his chest. She swayed him side-to-side a little bit but Thranduil didn’t touch her, his eyes staring out into the distance.

“God, you smell good.” Elizabeth whispered. Thranduil had never heard those words come out of her mouth since they had first gotten married. He might have smelt good but she didn’t. She reeked of alcohol and Thranduil could sense it.

“You’re drunk.” He said. Elizabeth tugged Thranduil closer and she raised her head, her lips grazing his neck ever so slightly. Thranduil closed his eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders in an effort to push her away.

“No, Elizabeth…”

She sighed and stumbled back slightly. Thranduil kept his hands on her shoulders to right her so that she wouldn’t fall over.

“I’ll go get you some coffee.” He said.

“I’m not drunk.” Elizabeth slurred slightly, her eyelids drooping a little. Bard watched from inside the house and elected to go upstairs to check on Sigrid. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on any more of Thranduil and his wife’s conversation. It was private.

Outside, Thranduil rested his hands on Elizabeth’s upper arms, keeping her steady on her feet. She looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

“You can still come with us, Thranduil. Go and pack a bag.” She pleaded.

“I can’t do that.” Thranduil said. As much as he wanted, he couldn’t. He suddenly came to the realisation that she wasn’t in love with Elizabeth anymore. He loved her but he wasn’t _in_ love with her. He would rather spend Christmas with Bard and his children. They seemed to enjoy his company more than his wife did.

“Of course you can. We can buy you a ticket in the morning.” Elizabeth said. Thranduil sighed and let go of her. He walked past her, heading towards the front door, but he felt his wife try and take his hand but he backed away. She was drunk and he didn’t want to do this when she was not herself.

“So you’re just going to spend Christmas with Galion? And with your…shop boy?!” Elizabeth cried, her eyes flashing with rage. At this moment, Thranduil was so relieved that his wife hadn’t seen or heard any of Bard’s children for that would make things even worse.

“Stop it, Elizabeth.” He growled at her.

“I put nothing past men like you.”

“You married a man like me.” Thranduil snapped back. Elizabeth pressed her lips together and reached out to grab her husband. He backed away again and Elizabeth staggered in her heels, falling backwards onto the hard pavement with a sharp groan. Thranduil gasped inwardly as Elizabeth pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the ground. She glowered at him, her lips curling into a scowl.

“Come with me and Legolas now. If you don’t…if you…don’t…open that car door. If you won’t come-”

“Then what? It’s over? It’s already over.” Thranduil cut her off, shrugging his shoulders. Cold breath issued from both of their mouths as they breathed. Elizabeth was about to respond when she realised at that moment that she was on the ground before her husband who was quiet and still, just staring at her. She rubbed her hand on the side of her face and sighed before continuing to glare at him.

“Goddamn you, Thranduil. You…you were never callous.”

Thranduil’s lips came together in a thin line, the corners drooping. He hated seeing his wife in this state. It wasn’t like her. He took a step towards her, his hand extended out to her.

“Liz…”

“Don’t call me that.” Elizabeth barked, slapping her husband’s hand away. She got to her feet by herself and looked at the car where her son that she had had with the man standing in front of her sat. She took a few deep breaths and smoothed out her coat and dress. Thranduil took another step towards her but she recoiled.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Elizabeth stiffened and walked past him without as much as a backwards glance. Thranduil watched as she got into the back seat of the car next to Legolas and shut the door behind her. The backlights flashed on as the car drove down the driveway, disappearing into the dark street.

Thranduil suddenly felt alone and cold. He hugged his arms, his face as icy as stone. His son was gone. His little leaf was gone. _How long before I see him? Days? Weeks? Months?_ The moment Legolas had come into the world, Thranduil became whole. He had a child that was dependent on him and looked up to him as a father and as a role model. Then, he married Elizabeth and everything was perfect. Until the divorce. Thranduil looked at the gold ring that sat on his finger. He pondered about taking it off and flinging it into the bushes but he didn’t. It wasn’t necessary. He retained an image of his son’s smiling face and walked into the house.

Bard left Sigrid in the library. She was reading a book that she couldn’t put down so he left her to it. As he came down the stairs, he saw Thranduil shutting the door behind him. He was crestfallen and everything about him showed that. The slouching shoulders, the quivering lips and the lowered eyes. Bard reached the bottom of the stairs and the angel looked at him. But it wasn’t the soft longing look that he usually gave him. It was like Bard was a ghost and Thranduil was looking right through him as if he wasn’t there. Then, he looked away and stepped into the sitting room, his eyes on the whisky bottle that sat on the table. His cigarette case was next to it and he opened it. He wanted a cigarette. Bard followed him nervously, his face worried. He and his children couldn’t stay any longer. Thranduil needed time to himself and Bard could see that.

“I should call a cab.” He said. Thranduil had his back to him, his hair pouring down his back in loose straight locks that glowed gold in the room’s muted light.

“Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you run out of cigarettes.” Thranduil growled, slamming the silver case down on the table. The sound of metal making contact with wood made Bard flinch but he didn’t back away. He saw the angel’s fingers grip the edge of the table in anger and Bard knew that he did not want to face his wrath.

“Oh, tell me where to go and I’ll buy some for you. I don’t mind, honestly-”

“You don’t have to run out into the middle of nowhere to buy cigarettes for me, Bard. I’m fine.” Thranduil snapped, cutting Bard off. There was a pregnant pause as a thick atmosphere hung in the air. Bard lowered his head in an effort to cover his distress. Thranduil could sense it. He didn’t like talking to Bard like he did but he couldn’t help it. His wife had taken his son away before the date that they had agreed on a month ago. Blood pounded in his veins, sending fire through his body which could be detected in his eyes. His fingers tapped the wooden table and he slowly turned around to face Bard. The dark-haired man was looking at the floor, rubbing the side of his face with his fingers. He wanted him to stay but after the way he had just spoken to him, Thranduil was sure that Bard wanted to leave. _We had such a good day. And then, this happened…Why?_ Thranduil didn’t know why. The only thing he knew was that there was now a gash in his relationship with Bard.

“The next train is at 7 o’clock. I’ll drive you and your children to the station.”

 

The journey in the car had none of the happiness and excitement that the drive to the house had had. There was no-one on the roads. No noise at all. Just darkness. The children were silent in the back but Bard could feel their sudden gloom. Especially little Tilda. She was so young so she had absolutely no idea what was going on or what was wrong. But she knew that being happy was not going to help so she didn’t speak and looked at her lap. Bard saw all of it in the rear view mirror and he felt his own gloom grow in his body. And his heart.

The distance between Bard and the angel couldn’t be any worse. They didn’t even look at each other but there was sadness building up within their hearts. Thranduil didn’t blink as he kept his eyes on the road, lit up by streetlamps on either side. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning dead white. Bard looked out of the window, his hand resting on his mouth. There was no glee or joy or delight. The mood in the car matched the darkness outside. Something was eating into Bard’s veins, reaching his beating heart which no longer jumped or thumped a little faster. He had felt it fall. He was sure that it had dropped down somewhere near his stomach. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Not since his wife died. It felt like sorrow. It felt like grief. What Bard didn’t know was that Thranduil felt so guilty.

He didn’t show it on the surface but Thranduil was dying on the inside. He felt so terrible. The children’s quietness didn’t do him any good either. No laughs from Sigrid. No grins from Bain. No squeals from Tilda. And no giggles from his little leaf. And no blushes from the older dark-haired man sitting next to him. Thranduil couldn’t even bring himself to look at Bard. The gorgeous man that he liked exceptionally. The air was so sharp and thin that the piecing of a knife could break it. As he drove closer and closer to the train station, his heart fell even more. Thranduil wanted to turn back around and tell Bard and his family to stay the night. But it was too late. Thranduil was certain that Bard wouldn’t want to stay over now. So he dropped them off at the station and bid them goodbye before driving back home fast. His foot was pressed hard against the accelerator as a single tear broke free from the barrier of his eye and rolled down Thranduil’s pale cheek.

The train arrived at exactly 7 o’clock and Bard and his children boarded it. They chose a spot next to the window, Bard sitting with Tilda on one side while Bain and Sigrid sat opposite them. The train began to move and speed up, heading back to New York.

“Da?” Tilda piped up. Bard looked at her, placing his left arm around her small shoulders.

“Yes, darling?”

“Is Mr. Thranduil OK? He looked upset.”

Bard pressed his lips together and rubbed his daughter’s arm with his arm. Bain and Sigrid looked at their father, waiting for his response. They were curious too. When they had left the house, Thranduil had not been smiling and his eyes were no longer glittering. He had looked broken.

“Thranduil just needs some time to himself.” Bard said. It was better than trying to explain the truth to a six-year-old girl.

“But his house is so big, Da. He shouldn’t be alone. Do you think a hug would help him?”

Bard wished that he could share Tilda’s optimism. But he didn’t have the heart to.

“Oh, I don’t think so, darling.” He whispered.

“Not even a big tight one?” Tilda asked but Bard shook his head. The little girl’s bottom lip trembled and she leaned against her father’s chest. Bard tightened his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

Fifteen minutes into the trip, a couple of tourists stumbled past the family of four, clearly tipsy, laughing softly at the jokes and noises that they were making. Tilda was asleep against her father’s chest and Bain was dozing off, his head lolling back against the headrest of the seat. However, Sigrid was still awake. She stared out of the window, blackness devouring everything light in its sight. Bard watched as the tipsy tourists clumsily made their way to the end of the car. Their happiness was too much for him. He couldn’t bear it. He had felt happiness today. He had felt desire and warmth. But all of those brilliant emotions had gone, spiralling down into nothing.

Bard leaned his head against the cold window, making himself as small as possible. He felt Tilda adjust her position in his arms and a word that sounded oddly like “Leggy” passed through her lips very quietly. Bard swallowed the hard lump in his throat and the tears that he had held back since the drive to the train station finally fell free, running down his cheeks, leaving wet lines in their wake. He closed his eyes slowly and wept silently but Sigrid spotted it. She looked at her father as he cried. She didn’t know what he was feeling but she knew that it was the man named Thranduil Greenleaf was the person he thought of when he sobbed. And in that moment, Sigrid wished that everything would get better. In the day that they had spent together, she had seen the affection that her father and Thranduil bore for each other. All she wanted was for her father to be happy. And even though Bard was sad at the moment, Sigrid identified the fact that it was Thranduil who could make him happy again.

 

**

 

It was 9:15 when all the children were asleep in bed. Bard was downstairs on the phone, his hand pressed flat against the wall next to the receiver. He heard the ringing and waited. Then, on the fourth ring, someone picked up.

_Hello?_

“Percy.”

_Oh, hello, Bard._

“I’m neck-deep in shit.” Bard whispered with guilt.

_Why? What’s wrong?_

Bard sighed. It wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone. And he couldn’t wait until tomorrow. It was important.

“Listen, can I come round? I need to talk to you.

_You’re talking to me right now._

“Please, Perce. I need to tell you face-to-face.”

He heard his friend sigh on the other end of the phone.

_Be quick._

“See you soon.” Bard said before hanging up and rushing out of his apartment block. His coat flapped in the breeze as his hair ruffled around his face. Fortunately, Percy lived on four streets away so Bard arrived within ten minutes. He walked up the stairs until he reached the fourth level. He knocked on the door that was labelled with the number _8_. It opened and Percy appeared. Bard had known him since he was 16. Percy was the one who introduced him to Maria and he had eternally grateful for that. Percy let him inside and Bard nodded at him as a “thank you”.

“You’re lucky my girlfriend is away until Tuesday.” He said, shutting the door as Bard walked past him.

“I’m sorry to bother you but I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Bard said. Percy directed him to the small couch and Bard sat down, his head falling into his hands. Percy lowered himself down onto the comfy chair diagonally left across from Bard and stared at his friend.

“Bard…What’s wrong?”

Bard didn’t answer. He just rubbed his face in misery, his hair a little windswept. Percy crossed his legs and one of his hands rested on his knee. He hadn’t seen his friend in such a state since Maria had passed away. But this was something different. And Percy had a notion that it wasn’t anything to do with family or work.

“Has it got to do with this gorgeous man you met at work?”

Bard removed his hands from his face and let the fall, his fingers dangling over his knees. He glanced at Percy and nodded faintly. Percy rested his temple against his free hand and pursed his lips together.

“So, what happened? You haven’t slept with him or kissed him, have you?”

“No, Percy! I’ve done neither!” Bard cried.

“OK, I was just checking. Proceed.” Percy said with a wave of his hand before it landed on his knee once again. So Bard told him everything.

He detailed his first meeting with Thranduil. The lunch they had went to together. What had transpired at Thranduil’s house that night. How he felt about Thranduil. That he was falling for him but he didn’t know what to do. Percy listened to every word and didn’t interrupt once. Bard thought it felt so good to get all of it off of his shoulders and out of his head. He hardly took a breath as he spoke, all of the information flying out of his mouth. There wasn’t a switch that he could push mentally to stop himself. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop. When he finished, he sat back on the couch, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his messy hair. Percy didn’t speak. He just looked at Bard intently, his fingers pressed against his temple. Bard sighed, his head falling backwards onto the back of the couch.

“Well, the last few days of your life certainly have been eventful.”

Bard looked at Percy and tried his best not to glare at him but he did frown.

“This is not a joke, Perce.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea what I’m going through.” Bard said.

“You’re right. I don’t. So why exactly did you come to me?”

“Because you are the only person I trust to tell this kind of stuff to.”

“Not your children?”

“You’re joking, Perce. Sigrid is smart but she doesn’t know yet. Bain, I don’t know what he’d do. And Tilda…she’s only six! She has no concept of this, or what desire or lust is.” Bard rambled on and he rubbed his face again. His life had never been this difficult. He was torn between his heart and his head. They were pulling him in opposite directions and it was killing him.

“I’m not sure what to say.” Percy stated.

“Say anything.” Bard demanded, closing his eyes briefly and a picture of the angel with the silken hair flashed in his mind. He needed a distraction. But he couldn’t make his children one because Bard had a feeling that his youngest would ask about “Mr. Thranduil” and “Leggy”.

“I am your friend, Bard, and I will always be by your side to help you.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

“But this is something that I can neither help you with nor fix. You’ve got to make a decision on your own and I will stand by you with whatever you choose to do.” Percy said confidently, leaning over and patting Bard’s knee. Bard knew that his friend could not help him but at least he had someone to talk to. _It’s better than nothing._ He told himself and he nodded.

“So Tilda’s taken a liking to this Thranduil?” Percy asked as he and Bard walked to the door.

“Yes, she has. I’ll probably never hear the end of it until we see him again.”

“Which is when?”

It hit Bard that he didn’t know when he was going see Thranduil again or if he was ever going to see Thranduil in the future. It saddened Bard’s heart when he thought of a life without the beautiful angel. He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He so badly wanted to see him again and envelope him in the tightest hug, just as Tilda had suggested on the train ride home.

“I don’t know.” Bard said. Percy opened the door for him and he stepped outside. Percy placed his hand on his shoulder which made Bard turn around.

“Remember, if you ever need me, just call.”

“I will, Percy. Thank you.” Bard nodded and walked down the stairs, the sound of his friend’s door closing ringing in his ears.

 

When Bard got home, the lights in the apartment block were dim. He was just about to climb the stairs to go to bed when the hall telephone began to ring. He sighed and walked up to it. He couldn’t leave it ringing. He picked it up, holding it against his ear.

“Hello?” He asked. The door next to the phone opened and the landlady, Mrs Turner, came into view. She was wrapped up in her dressing gown, her brown-grey hair lying in short curls just above her shoulders.

“Do you know what time it is, Bard?”

“I apologise. It just rang…” Bard said, giving her an apologetic look. Mrs Turner nodded but didn’t look too pleased. She closed her door and Bard returned his attention back to the phone.

“Hello?” He asked again. There was no answer. Not even the sound of the other person breathing. But then, he heard someone exhale. And Bard suddenly knew who was on the other end of the line. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the phone.

“Thranduil…” He breathed. There was still silence. Bard waited, holding his breath. Then, after a pause, the angel’s voice came out of the phone.

_I was so horrible to you and your children. Please forgive me._

“Of course I forgive you. What happened wasn’t your fault, alright? It could’ve been a 1,000 times worse.” Bard whispered.

_Then, will you…let me come and see you…tomorrow evening? Say 6 o’clock?_

Bard could hear the anxiety in the angel’s voice and he couldn’t help but smile to himself at the thought of seeing Thranduil again.

“I would love that. And so would my children. Tilda already misses you.”

_It would be wonderful to see them again. And you._

There was a pause before Bard spoke into the phone.

“I had meant to ask you things tonight but I never got the chance. But I’m not sure if you want me to.”

What Bard heard next made his heart rise to a place where it had never been before.

_Ask me things, Bard. Please._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter to write so far because it finally shows the complications and consequences that Bard and Thranduil face if they wish to be in a relationship. I hope you liked the update :) Comments motivate me to write faster so keep them coming!


	6. Morality Clause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil’s world comes crashing down when he visits his lawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Thranduil POV chapter! God, this was fun to write :) I hope you like it!

He woke up in bed alone. Usually, Legolas was curled up by his side, having snuck into his room during the night. His long legs were tangled together beneath the pure white sheets, his hair splayed out beautifully over the pillow. He wasn’t warm. He was cold. He arose and threw the sheets off his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet resting on the carpeted floor. He ran a hand over his face as he blinked himself awake.

Thranduil had dreamt a wonderful dream. Images had morphed from one to another. Flashes of warm eyes and dark messy hair. He had imagined the feeling of Bard’s skin underneath his fingertips, soft and smooth. The pressure of his lips moving against his own, the older man’s facial hair sending shivers all over his body as it rubbed against his skin. His arms had been around Bard’s waist, pulling him closer to him as their mouths met in passionate kisses, a glorious feeling covering Thranduil’s beating heart. Bard’s arms had been tight around his neck, his fingers gripping the silken strands of his long hair. Their chests had been touching and Thranduil could feel Bard’s heart thumping, the sound of it reaching his ears. He wanted that dream to be real. To feel the older man’s flesh tingle when he touched him. Their lips slotting together like the perfect pieces of a puzzle. It was a good start to Thranduil’s morning but all of it went downhill when he went to see his lawyer.

He pulled up in his car outside _Lothlórien Law Offices_ and walked inside, saying hello to the administrator, Haldir. Thranduil was talking to him when the door to his lawyer’s office opened. She was a vision of old-fashioned beauty. Her wavy golden hair was piled atop her head with silver pins, only accentuating the pallor of her flawless skin. Her lips were a strawberry red and her long nails were painted a bright scarlet. Her dress was a simple style, the dark grey fabric shining all the way to the hem that reached her knees. Translucent stockings covered her long legs and black heels sat on her feet. A matching suit jacket hugged her shoulders and arms. Thranduil’s eyes locked with her beautiful blue ones that told such a long story.

“Thranduil.” She said, her voice completely smooth as if it was velvet.

“Galadriel.” He acknowledged. The woman stepped back and gestured her arm into her office, telling Thranduil to come inside. He did so and waited until she had closed the door before he spoke.

“You called me down here. So just…give it to me straight. What am I not to worry about until after the holiday season?” He asked as he took off his coat and gloves. Galadriel looked at Thranduil briefly before sitting down in her seat behind her desk.

“Look, Haldir served me some papers this morning to my complete surprise. Why don’t you take a seat?” She nodded at the chair on the opposite side of her desk.

“Why do people always think you’re going to take bad news better if you are sitting down?” Thranduil scoffed. He didn’t sit down. He remained standing, fixing his watch. There was an awkward silence before Galadriel cleared her throat and spoke.

“Elizabeth has sought an injunction which denies you any access to Legolas until the custody hearing. Also, I’m afraid to inform you that Elizabeth has changed her mind about joint custody. She wants to have sole custody of Legolas.”

Thranduil looked up, his eyes huge. His body began to dissolve, his heartbeat slowing as the blood slowed down as it flowed through his veins. He tried to process what Galadriel had just told him but he couldn’t. _I can’t see Legolas? That’s not…I can’t…_ Thranduil was lost. His lawyer balanced her arms on her elbows and clasped her manicured hands together, her blue eyes full of apology. He still hadn’t sat down. _First, Elizabeth wants me to come with her…and then, she decides that I cannot see my son? My little leaf…_ Legolas was all he had. He couldn’t lose him. He was everything to him. Just him being in Thranduil’s life made him smile, made him feel better. But his wife had made the decision to take that away from him. _Take my little leaf away from me…_ This was not the way things were supposed to go. He couldn’t think of any words to say but one.

“ _What_?!”

He was completely stunned. He was in shock and Galadriel could see that. He finally managed to sit down but as soon as he did, he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to rise out of it.

“But…We’ve already agreed about custody. What is this all about?” Thranduil asked.

“They’ll be filing papers on the 30th in District Family Court for the…the permanent custody petition.” Galadriel stated, lowering her clasped hands onto the desk. Thranduil looked away from her, his gaze on the floor but he was distant. He placed his left hand against his lips and sighed. From his point of view, it was ridiculous. _Where was the love that Elizabeth and I had once felt for each other? What happened to us? Why does it have to be this way?_ Thranduil didn’t know. And for the first time in his life, he felt inferior.

“Can she do this? Is it…right?” He asked without looking at his lawyer.

“I don’t know if it’s right. But it is legal.” Galadriel said. He caught the hint of sadness in her voice. She was a family lawyer and ever since Thranduil’s parents had passed away, it was him that she turned her attention and job to. Not only was she his lawyer. They were also great friends. They confided in each other when they needed help but seeing as Galadriel was in her late 40s, it was Thranduil who went to her. But today, she had called him down to her office. It had never happened before so Thranduil knew that something was wrong. That something had occurred that had never had.

“On what grounds?” He inquired, still not looking at her. Galadriel sighed. This was already difficult and Thranduil had a habit of making things even more difficult than they already were.

“Listen, Thranduil… Let’s just…deal with this after Christmas. You will have a chance to-”

“On. What. Grounds?” Thranduil snarled, putting deep emphasis on each word. He raised his eyes to hers and Galadriel saw a bright burning fire the colour of pale blue glowing in his irises. If there was one thing about Thranduil that she could not handle, it was his rage. Sometimes, she wondered how Elizabeth managed to live with the man but Thranduil hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when he and Elizabeth had been deeply in love, softly exchanging kisses in public with little Legolas walking in between them. That life had been scattered into nothing. The Greenleaf family was breaking. It had already begun.

“They are imploring the judge to consider a morality clause.” Galadriel declared.

“A _morality_ …What the hell does that mean?” Thranduil snapped, leaning back in his chair, his left hand waving in the air with fury. He had no idea what was going on. He had no idea what was going on inside his wife’s mind. _What has she become? Whoever she is, she is no longer the woman I married. The woman I loved._ His mind was in chaos and he couldn’t think straight. Galadriel placed her hands flat against the wooden desk and looked down for a moment.

“OK. I won’t mince words with you, Thranduil.” She said. He waited for her to speak, resting his fingers against the side of his head. She looked at him, face-to-face, and tapped the desk softly with her nails.

“Galion.”

The name hit Thranduil’s ears like a wave of water. It stung him. _What has Galion got to do with this? It’s about me, Elizabeth and Legolas. No-one else._ His hand fell from his head and rested in his lap, his long legs crossed over.

“Galion is my butler. And Legolas’s godfather. Galion is…” Thranduil trailed off. Out of the blue, he figured it out. He knew what his wife was doing, what she was thinking. Galadriel watched as he stood up, his fingers gripping the edge of the seat. He turned around and played his hands in a prayer position, resting his fingers against his mouth.

“Elizabeth is using my relationship with Galion to take my son away from me.” Thranduil murmured under his breath but Galadriel heard him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, strands of hair falling loose over his shoulders.

“If she can’t have me, I can’t have Legolas. That’s…” He resisted the urge to just let rip but that wouldn’t help at all. Galadriel stared at Thranduil’s back, her palms pressed flat down on her desk. _But…I am no longer with Galion. We were over before I even got together with Elizabeth._ He thought. It would be a lot worse if she knew the way Thranduil felt about Bard. She would make sure that he would never see his little leaf ever again. There was silence in the office. The cool winter light streamed through the window, a light blue glow staining the glass. Thranduil’s breathing was insanely slow and deep. Just yesterday, he had been smiling and flirting with the dark-haired man that worked at _Dale’s Deliveries_. The sound of Tilda’s giggling echoed in his ears, mixing with his son’s squeals. It was all gone and his world was turning dark.

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. But they seem serious.” Galadriel said, breaking the tense silence. Thranduil’s hands dropped from his mouth and he nodded.

“I know.” He agreed. He turned around and folded his arms, his dark silver suit shining from the bright light that poured in from the office windows. His hair turned a metallic blonde and his skin was as white as snow and perhaps, as cold as snow too.

“When is the custody hearing?” Thranduil asked.

“It’s hard to say. With the accumulation of cases and the holidays…”

“Your best guess, Galadriel.”

“You’ll be lucky to have it before March. April is more likely.” Galadriel deduced as best as she could. _March? April? It’s only December now!_ Thranduil realised that he could not see his son for three or four months maybe. It killed him. It had only been one day, one night really, since Elizabeth had taken Legolas away and he was already struggling to cope. _How am I going to last for all those months?_ He asked himself. But truly, he didn’t know.

“Can I see him?”

“Look…Let me put it this way…It would not be advisable under the-” Galadriel tried to sound as gracious as possible but it wasn’t enough so Thranduil interrupted her.

“Not even at school? In an office with a-?”

“The issue is not-”

“Surely a visit supervised by a teacher or-”

“Thranduil.” Galadriel said sternly. He pressed his lips together, his arms hanging limply by his sides. His lawyer gestured with her hands as she talked.

“These are very severe allegations. Forcing contact before the hearing, you simply invite further scrutiny relating to your conduct.”

“My _conduct_?!” Thranduil screeched. Galadriel sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Thranduil shook his head and placed one hand on his hip and the other on his cheek. He was frustrated. He was angry. He had thought the divorce was bad enough. Now this had happened. _My poor little leaf… He’ll have no clue what is going on. He’ll wonder where his Ada is and why his Nana and Ada are fighting._ He remembered his son’s face when he said goodbye to him the previous night. Those bright blue orbs that were shimmering with tears, his bottom lip trembling at the fact that his father wasn’t coming with him.

“Jesus Christ. I am his father, for God’s sake!” Thranduil said, sighing. Galadriel leaned back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap. She watched as her client lowered his hand from his face but his other hand stayed on his hip. His suit made him look powerful but on the inside, he felt weak. He was falling into a world where his son would not be in. All thoughts of happiness had flown out of his mind. Every single sweet feeling was gone. All that remained was rage and sadness, frailty and temper. Thranduil walked up to his seat but did not lower himself into it. Instead, he placed his hand on the edge of it and sighed.

“Morality clause. I see.” He whispered.

“Do you?” Galadriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, of course not. There’s nothing moral about taking Legolas away from me.” Thranduil said, glancing at his lawyer. No more words were uttered between the two of them. There was nothing more to say so Thranduil left in silence, driving home. Maybe a little bit too fast.

 

**

 

_Thranduil? Are you OK? You don’t sound too good._

“That’s because I’m not, Tauriel.” He sighed into the phone.

_Why? Is something wrong?_

“Yes. Something is very wrong.”

_Thranduil, tell me._

He sighed and tried to stop the tears but to avail. They ran down his cheeks and he sniffled.

“She’s taking him away from me.”

_Who? Who’s taking who away from you?_

“Elizabeth, Tauriel. She’s taking Legolas away from me. I can’t…”

_OK, that’s it. You and I are going out. Meet me at The Green Dragon at 4 o’clock._

Thranduil agreed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. Tauriel hung up and he got ready to go out.

He drove into the city a little earlier, at about 3:40pm. He parked in a silent street and began to walk down Fifth Avenue. Thranduil passed crowds of people were Christmas shopping, bags in their hands and cheeks pink from the cold. Children skipping along energetically, tugging on their mother’s or their father’s hand. But Thranduil had never been good at shopping, which is what he told Bard when he had first him in _Dale’s Deliveries_. That day still made him smile. That gorgeous man standing behind the glass desk, dressed in dark clothes with a white and red Santa hat on his head. Thranduil thought it had suited him. He never failed to notice the sparkle in Bard’s eyes or the faint blush that beautified his skin which a little darker than Thranduil’s.

Thranduil placed his sunglasses on his nose, covering his eyes from the winter sunlight. He got out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth, beginning to search his coat for his lighter. He didn’t look where he was going but glanced up just in time when a truck was backing out from an alleyway into the street.

“Watch it!” The male driver shouted.

“Pardon me.” Thranduil said with the cigarette still in his mouth, raising his gloved hand in apology. He crossed the alleyway and heard the truck driving out onto the road. He found a spot in between two shops and finally found his lighter inside his coat. He lit his cigarette and let the smoke issue from his mouth. Thranduil leaned against the wall and looked up at the sky. It was overcast but a little blue peeked through along with sun’s bright rays. Legolas had been his sun. But his sun was gone, taken away by the storm that was Elizabeth Greenleaf. Fierce love had once beated in his heart for her but now, it was disdain. What she had decided to do drove Thranduil up the wall. Once Legolas had been born, everything in his life grew brighter. Galion was no longer his lover and he no longer went out with men. Until Bard. Until the father of three. He remembered Tilda’s giggles and Bain’s shock at seeing his large house for the first time. Sigrid was an intelligent and beautiful young woman. He could see a lot of Bard in her. His original sun was gone but maybe, just maybe, four new stars would light up his life once again.

Thranduil turned to his left to look at the shop window next to him. It was a vacation shop, selling things that you would need if you going away on a holiday. Thranduil had been planning to get away so he stepped in front of the window and looked at the displays. There were different kinds of sunglasses and hats on mannequins, cameras slung around their white necks. Luggage was piled up neatly in artful positions. He had been meaning to get a new case because his other one was getting a little worn. Thranduil’s eyes fell upon a large brown leather suitcase that sat on the other side of the glass. He took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out underneath his foot and entering the stop.

 

The redhead was already waiting outside the bar when Thranduil arrived. He walked down the street towards her, saying her name, and Tauriel’s head whipped around at the sound of a familiar male’s voice calling her name. She had pulled her long hair back in a large braided bun that sat behind her left ear. Her green dress and light brown coat matched the colour of her eyes and complimented her skin tone. A plaid-patterned hat sat on her head and her lips were a deep red. Thranduil stepped up to her and they greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek. Tauriel saw the desolation in his eyes and on his face but did not say anything about it. She didn’t want to upset him further. She hugged him briefly and linked her arm through his as they entered the bar together.

It wasn’t hugely busy which both of them were grateful about. They chose a table in a dark corner, away from the talking and laughing. Tauriel ordered a martini while Thranduil chose a red wine. The redhead took off her coat and hat and placed it on the seat next to her. Thranduil did the same with his coat, fixing his collar of his shirt, running his fingers over his pale neck. Maroon curtains shielded the customers from the outside world and the light was bright but hazy. Just enough to make Thranduil finally breathe normally. Their drinks arrived and they both took huge first sips before placing their glasses on the table. Thranduil looked at the curtains as a tiny smile ghosted over his lips.

“I found one of Legolas’s books underneath his pillow this morning. He had folded the top edge of the page to show where he was up to. I tell him to use a bookmark and sometimes he does to let me know that he’s been a good boy. But today, I couldn’t unfold the page. For some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to…” Thranduil trailed off. It reminded him of his son. Everything in the house did. The Christmas tree did not bring him any joy for it was Legolas and Bard’s children along with himself and Bard that had decorated its branches, the star glowing at the very top. Tauriel sipped her martini and shook her head.

“Elizabeth was never like this.” She whispered.

“You’re telling me.”

“How could she? What did your lawyer call it? A morality _what_ …?”

“Clause, she said.” Thranduil said, drinking his wine which stained his lips dark red. He looked at Tauriel softly. He was so glad to have a friend like her. Both of them had been 14 when they had met each other. People assumed that they would become a couple but it never happened. They never had that desire for each other. But they did love each other as the closest of friends. Thranduil could tell her anything. In fact, apart from Galadriel, Tauriel was the only one that knew about his relationship with Galion. That was the degree of trust that Thranduil had in her. She was like the sister he never had.

“Oh, Thranduil, if I am liable in any way-” Tauriel began but Thranduil cut her off.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever. You are not to blame.” He said, placing his hand over hers in a comforting manner. Tauriel smiled softly as her fingers curled around Thranduil’s. He let go and downed another gulp of wine. He sighed when the alcohol flooded through his body. It felt good but drinking more wouldn’t help. For all Thranduil knew, it would make things graver.

“Oh, you know that tailor’s shop that went bust a few months ago?” Tauriel asked, trying to lighten the mood. To her surprise, it worked.

“Absolutely. The one with the…with the, uh, glass thingy.” Thranduil nodded, taking another sip of wine. Tauriel smiled, her teeth a perfect flashy white.

“That’s the one. The glass thingy. Exactly.”

“Bullshit, Tauriel. You have no idea what I’m talking about.” Thranduil laughed.

“You’re right. But it’s good to see you laugh though.” Tauriel said, her green eyes shining. Thranduil nodded. It was good to laugh, even though it didn’t feel the right time to do so. Tauriel had this something that could make him forget about anything and everything that was bad, that was hurting him. He didn’t know what it was but he was pleased that she had that something. Being in her presence made him smile. Thranduil had contemplated about going and seeing Bard a little earlier but he didn’t want to bring his problems down on him. He was seeing him tonight anyway. _Only two hours to go._ He thought. He couldn’t wait to see Bard. And his children. Maybe they would make him feel better.

Tauriel digged her cigarette case out of her bag and opened it, offering it to Thranduil. He took one and Tauriel lit it. He held it in between his index and middle finger and puffed it while Tauriel lit her own. Thranduil sat back in his seat and relaxed as cigarette smoke floated around them.

“Anyway, the landlord offered me a lease. I was thinking, perhaps another furniture shop? I’ll need some help with refurbishments every once in a while. And you’re the varnish expert, so…” Tauriel continued.

“You’re serious then.” Thranduil said.

“I’m very serious.” Tauriel nodded.

“Couldn’t be any more of a disaster than Galion and I were.” He sighed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He was 16 when it had happened, and so was Galion. It lasted almost a year and when Elizabeth found out when she and Thranduil first started courting, she was beyond furious. But she learned to forgive and love him. Having Legolas brought them closer. And now, he was tearing them apart. Tauriel leaned across the table and laid her pale hand over his large one. When he and Galion broke up, Thranduil had gone into a dark place, just as dark as the one that he was in now. But Tauriel was there by his side. She always had been.

“Hey, you two weren’t a disaster. It just…” Tauriel didn’t know the right words to say. But luckily, Thranduil had them.

“I know. Timing was shit. Never had it.”

Tauriel’s lips parted and she smiled softly at her friend, patting his hand. He nodded at her and sighed as smoke puffed out of his mouth, drifting up to the ceiling. Having Galion as his butler was something that Elizabeth had never approved of but as Thranduil had said to her, “Too bad.” Thranduil remembered the look that Galion gave Bard when he and the children arrived at the house. He hadn’t looked too happy. He thought that his butler was getting jealous. But Thranduil did not feel that way about Galion. He never had. He never loved him. But Bard… Thranduil was falling for him. His heart always lurched when he saw the dark-haired beauty. And if Galion did not like that, he would just have to accept Thranduil’s wishes.

“So, I’ve got my eyes on this redhead who owns a steakhouse in Paramus. And I’m talking pure redhead here.” Tauriel said, stressing the word “redhead”, her green eyes wide and huge.

“As red as you?” Thranduil chuckled.

“Oh, yes.”

“Are you sure you can handle them? Sometimes, I can barely handle one redhead.” Thranduil smirked, referring to the redhead that sat opposite him.

“My advantage is that I am also a redhead. Not white-blonde like you.” Tauriel said. She and Thranduil shared a naughty smile. Thranduil took hold of his wine glass and held it up in a toast.

“To redheads.”

Tauriel followed suit with her martini.

“To redheads.” She grinned and they clinked their glasses together. They each drank deep, leaving slivers of liquid left. As Tauriel put her glass back down on the table, she spotted the suitcase sitting next to Thranduil’s seat. It looked new, brand-new. A perfect brown leather without any scratches or creases.

“You going somewhere?” She asked.

“I was thinking West. Just for a few weeks. What else can I do?” Thranduil said, his fingers tapping his cool glass. He crossed his legs and leaned back in his comfy seat, his other hand rested on his thigh.

“Well, I know that you don’t enjoy driving alone…” Tauriel said, finishing her martini. Thranduil knew that she knew what he was planning to do. It was obvious.

“He’s older than you, I know that. You’re young, Thranduil. I want you to be careful.” She continued, leaning forward. Thranduil nodded at her in agreement but he couldn’t stop the feelings that he had for Bard. It was more than just a physical thing. He needed more. He wanted more.

“He’s got children. You can’t just take him with you for a few weeks.” Tauriel said.

“Yes, I can. He told me that he has a very kind neighbour that looks after them when he’s busy.” Thranduil replied.

“Maybe for a few days but not for a few weeks!”

“I’ll let Bard make that decision himself.” Thranduil said, taking one last gulp of his red wine. Tauriel bit her lip as she put her cigarette case back in her bag. She stubbed hers out in the ashtray and rested her forearms on the table. A few strands of her copper hair fell loose in front of her ears, her face full of worry.

“Please tell me you know what you’re doing.” She whispered. Thranduil sighed and put out his own cigarette out. He saw how much Bard loved and cared for his children. They were his life and Thranduil couldn’t just take him away for a few weeks. But it was up to Bard. And Thranduil would respect his decision, whatever it was. He looked at Tauriel before responding.

“I don’t. I never did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there’s a shitload of smoking in this fic but that’s what it was like in the 20th century, especially the 1950s. People smoked. In no way am I promoting smoking, it’s just a part of the story. But I hope you enjoyed the update :) Feedback and speculation gives me joy! :D


	7. Come With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil surprises Bard and his children with Christmas presents. And Bard makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I just want to say sorry about how LATE this chapter is! Some events arose and I had no time to write! I hope you can all forgive me! On that note, Bard and Thranduil are in each other’s company once again!! This is a sweet chapter, an apology for the sadness of the previous chapter, so enjoy :)

It was approaching 6 o’clock and Bard was frantic. The angel could be here any minute and he couldn’t think straight. Dinner was on his shoulders and Sigrid was helping him, telling him to calm down, stating that spaghetti wasn’t that hard to make. He hoped that Thranduil liked spaghetti. Now he doubted everything. Bain was in his room and Tilda was politely setting the table with plates and cutlery.

The phone call he had had with the angel the night before still lingered in his mind. He had talked with him for at least half-an-hour and it was one of the most uplifting conversations that Bard had ever had. He discovered that Thranduil liked him and he smiled when he had heard that. When he had said the same thing in response, he heard Thranduil sigh on the other end of the line. It was when he had entered his apartment that he had found Sigrid standing at the end of the hall, dressed in her nightgown, her hair in disarray.

“Where have you been, Da?” She had asked.

“I was on the phone. Go back to bed.”

“Talking to who?”

Bard had not answered her question. He told to have sweet dreams and he went to bed himself, smiling to himself as he drifted into a deep sleep that was filled with images of white-blonde hair and gentle lips.

Sigrid knew that it was Thranduil her father had talked to. She had never seen him so nervous, not since having lunch with his wife’s parents a couple of years ago. This was apprehension on a whole new level. She stirred the sauce and meat in the pan while Bard drained the pasta. When he was done, he dried his hands and placed his hand on his daughter’s back, kissing the side of her head, telling her that she was doing a good job with the food. Then, a knock came from the front door. Bard looked over his shoulder and swallowed deeply.

_He’s here._ He thought.

He ran a hand through his hair which he had combed to get the knots out. He began to walk to the front door but Tilda beat him to it. She jumped up to open the door and when she did, the angel stood there. Bard thought he looked delectable, as usual. He wore a silver suit with a red dress shirt underneath open at the collar, showing off his smooth neck. His black military coat held his strong tall figure and his shoes were polished to perfection. His hair was loose and draped over one shoulder like a river of silver. His hands were devoid of gloves this time and Bard saw him smile at the six-year-old girl in front of him.

“Hello, Mr. Thranduil!” She grinned.

“Good evening, Miss Tilda. How are you?” Thranduil asked.

“I’m good. But Da has missed you.”

Bard’s eyes widened at his daughter’s statement. He couldn’t believe what she had just said but nothing could be done now. She had said it and Tilda had always been a motor mouth. It tended to be either hilarious or embarrassing. And on this night, it was the latter. Thranduil looked up and saw Bard standing by the wall a few metres away. There was no mistaking the pinkness creeping over his cheeks. Thranduil felt his heart rise at the sight of Bard. It was so good to lay eyes on him again. He was wearing a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons open, with an unbuttoned black vest and simple black pants hugged his legs. Soft boots were on his feet and his dark hair was out, hanging loose to just above his shoulders. He was ridiculously handsome. Thranduil had never felt so attracted to a person his senior before. Judging by his children’s ages, he guessed that Bard was around his mid-thirties. Everything that had transpired in the morning disappeared out of his head. Everything revolved around the older man standing before him.

“Has he now?” Thranduil smirked and Bard’s stomach did a somersault. Bard cleared his throat and walked up to his daughter and the angel. He rested his hand on Tilda’s shoulder and looked down at her.

“You go and get your brother, darling. I won’t be a minute.” He said. Tilda nodded and rushed off down the hall as per her father’s request.

He was alone with the angel who hadn’t stopped smirking yet. Bard wanted him to stop. The more he did it, the more he wanted to kiss it off him. Thranduil could see that Bard looked a little confused so he explained.

“Your landlady let me in.”

Bard nodded and his gaze fell upon a suitcase in front of Thranduil’s legs. It was huge. He didn’t know why Thranduil had a suitcase with him. It perplexed Bard. Thranduil looked at Bard, his eyes darting from him to the suitcase in front of him. He pushed it in Bard’s direction, over the threshold with his foot. The dark-haired man peered at him curiously and Thranduil nodded at it with his head.

“Merry Christmas.”

“But it’s two days until Christmas.” Bard said.

“Just open it, Bard.”

Bard glanced at the angel before going down on his knees and opening the suitcase. What was inside made him gasp.

There was a pair of black high heels with an envelope addressed to Sigrid on top of them. Next to those was an Etch-and-Sketch with another envelope on top, addressed to Bain this time. Then, there was a beautiful lilac dress with frills around the waist, neatly folded, with a small matching hat sitting next to it. Both items were for Tilda. And lastly, there was a pristine camera that was highly more advanced than Bard’s current one with plenty of rolls of film. Every single item was expensive and nothing that Bard could afford. His presents for his children, which were currently hidden in his rooms, were definitely not as good as the ones that Thranduil had bought.

“Thranduil, this is…” Bard trailed off, picking up the camera gently. It was beautiful, a metallic silver and felt firm in his hands.

“Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure.” Thranduil said, smiling. Bard closed the suitcase and stood up. He wanted to throw his arms around the angel’s neck and kiss him right then and there. But it wasn’t the right time yet. Both of them would know when it was time.

“Oh, how rude of me! Come in.” Bard gestured his guest inside. Thranduil stepped into the apartment and Bard shut the door behind him, locking it. He picked up the suitcase and took it to the main room.

“Is it alright if I give you your Christmas present tomorrow?” Bard asked. When he heard no answer, he turned around to see Thranduil looking around the room, shedding his coat. Bard heard Sigrid in the kitchen, mixing the meat and sauce with the pasta.

“I know, it’s not much.” He said.

“No…it’s nice. Cosy and warm. And yes, you can give me my present tomorrow.” Thranduil smiled. _But I’ve already got my present already. The pleasure of being in your company._ He said in his head. Those types of words would come out of his mouth until he was sure that Bard wanted the same thing as he did. He didn’t want to push things. Thranduil wanted it to flow at a normal pace and it was going great so far, he didn’t want to ruin his chances. A waft of food hit his nostrils and he looked at Bard.

“Are you cooking dinner?”

“Yes. Would you like to have some with us?”

“I would love to. What _is_ for dinner?” Thranduil asked.

“Spaghetti.” Bard answered, hoping that the angel liked such a dish. The smile on his face told Bard everything. So after all the happy greetings, they all sat down and ate together. The food was delicious and all five of them finished every scrap on their plates. Thranduil wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back in his chair, throwing his arm around the back of Bard’s chair.

“That was wonderful, Bard.”

“Thank you.” Bard nodded.

“It was so yummy, Da! One day, I hope I can cook like you.” Tilda cried enthusiastically. Bard smiled at her. He told his children to go and put their dirty plates and cutlery in the sink and dispose of their napkins in the bin. They all moved to the small couch and Bard informed his three children about Thranduil’s presents as well as his own. He gave Tilda a new doll that she had begging for since October. She loved it the moment she saw it. Bain received a miniature train set, about half the size of the one that Thranduil had bought and for Sigrid, he bought her a silver and blue purse. Then, he opened the suitcase and Thranduil handed the presents to each person individually. They all read the cards that Thranduil had bought for them. Bard fought the urge to cry when he read what the angel had written to him.

 

_Bard,_

_You make me happy. You keep me grounded. You like me for who I am. The moment I saw you in Dale’s Deliveries, I was captured by you. It is always a pleasure to be in your company and talk to you. I hope we remain close for many more years to come. Merry Christmas._

_Thranduil_

“Thank you. I really can’t say more than that.” Bard murmured and without even thinking about it, he placed his hand on the angel’s knee. He had expected the angel to flinch from his sudden touch but he didn’t. Thranduil rested his hand over Bard’s and smiled at him.

“You’re welcome.” He responded, curling his fingers around Bard’s. He felt electricity crackle between them and Bard felt it too. He couldn’t look away from the crystalline eyes of the angel. His skin was so supple and perfect. Bard didn’t know what Thranduil saw in him. He was completely ordinary compared to him. Fortunately, none of the kids noticed the intense staring that occurred between the two because they were too busy admiring their presents.

“Thank you, Mr. Thranduil!” Tilda squealed, throwing herself at him, hugging him as tightly as she could. She held her new dress in one of her hands and Thranduil hugged her back, his large arms encompassing her small body.

“It was no trouble, little flower.’ He grinned, rubbing her back. Bard loved seeing the angel with his children. His eyes sparkled once again and his face had regained its beautiful happiness. _Legolas is my little leaf. Tilda is now my little flower._ Thranduil thought. The little girl ran off to go and put on her new dress while Bain thanked Thranduil for his present, heading off to go and put it in his room. Sigrid put her Christmas card down and held the high heels in her hands, examining them with wonder. They were a pure black and shone in the light. The heels were about three inches so if she put them on, she would only be a couple of inches off Bard.

“Why did you get me these?” She asked, not taking her eyes off the new shoes.

“You seem to have a good fashion sense, Sigrid. And when I saw those shoes, I thought of you. Bit of glamour for a lovely young lady like you.” Thranduil answered with a soft smile. Sigrid glanced at him, lowering the shoes to her lap. She had never owned anything so expensive in her life. She had wanted high heels but she knew that she wouldn’t have any occasion to where them to. Bard clasped his hands together and leaned forward, her forearms rested on his thighs.

“Why don’t you put them on, darling?” He suggested. Sigrid then took off her flats and slowly slipped one high heel onto her foot. It felt unusual to her but she managed to get the position right. Then, she put on the other one and was surprised that they fit her perfectly. She placed her feet on the floor, the heels on the carpet. She was afraid to stand up. She didn’t want to fall over. Thranduil and Bard watched her as she took a deep breath, placed her hands on the couch and rose up to her feet. Her ankles stumbled a little but she succeeded in standing up on her own. Bard had a look of admiration on his face and Thranduil’s eyes glowed with accomplishment. Standing at 5 foot 6 normally, the heels heightened her and made her look even more mature. Thranduil told her to walk in them and get used to the feeling of them. Bard’s smile grew wider when she walked around the couch and down the hall without as much as a stumble. She went to see her little sister in her new dress and together, they giggled at their presents.

Bard was left alone with Thranduil. They could hear the girls laugh and squeal and it made them smile.

“I think they like their presents.” Thranduil chortled.

“I think they do.” Bard agreed. The angel looked away from the dark-haired man and his gaze locked to the wall on his right. It was covered in photographs. There were many of his children as well as buildings and animals. Thranduil stood up and walked over to the wall, his eyes scanning over the pictures. There was one particular photo of Sigrid and Tilda walking down a street together in the snow. The older girl had her arm around her sister’s shoulders and they were looking at each other, smiles on their faces. Their bliss was captured in that single photo and for some reason, it made Thranduil feel love. His gaze then fell upon a photo of himself when he and the children were at the Christmas store. He looking past the camera, his body bundled up in his coat, leather gloves coating his pale hands. His hair was ruffling gently over his shoulders as flecks of snow fell from the sky. Bard looked at Thranduil’s back and waited. He was eager for a good opinion but the silence didn’t do any good. _Does he like them or not?_ He asked in his head. But there was no answer from the angel. Thranduil realised that the photo of him was hung a little further away from the others. He was surprised by the privacy of place Bard had given it. He smirked, glad that Bard could not see him doing so.

“I know it’s not that good. I rushed it. I mean…I can do better.” Bard said. There was a pause that hung in the air and he lowered his head, looking down at the floor. When he had taken pictures of the angel, he hadn’t planned on it. If Thranduil was his model, he would cherish taking photos of him, making him look as perfect as ever. But doing it on a whim made the angel look naturally beautiful because it wasn’t forced.

“It’s perfect.” Thranduil murmured, raising his hand. His fingers hovered over the photograph but he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. He looked back to the cluster of the other pictures and found one of a boy that looked about Legolas’s age. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He had a cute smile and was dressed smartly.

“Is this you?” Thranduil asked, turning around to face Bard and pointing at the picture. Bard stood up and nodded.

“Yes, that’s me.”

Thranduil looked back at the picture and he found himself smiling. The little boy had grown up into a very handsome man indeed. Scruff covered his chin and above his top lip whereas the boy had a clean-shaven face. But those dark eyes still held the warmth that they held now.

“You were a beautiful child.” Thranduil whispered, just loud enough for the other man to hear. Bard felt his cheek heat up. He could hear the sound of Sigrid’s new heels and Tilda laughing. He wondered what Thranduil had looked like when he was a child. _Probably more beautiful than me. Legolas is a spitting image of him._ He hoped that little Legolas was OK. Elizabeth had driven away with him and he had seen Thranduil at his breaking point that night. Bard was lucky, he had three children. But Thranduil only had Legolas. He put all of his attention and love into his only child. And Bard had seen that when he and his children had visited his house.

Thranduil sighed, his throat dry. He ran his fingers through his soft hair and looked over his shoulder at Bard.

“Do you have anything to drink?”

“Yes, of course. Wine or beer?”

“Beer. Thank you, Bard.”

So Bard went to the icebox where he kept his photo chemicals and pulled out two cold beers. When he re-entered the main room, he saw Thranduil sitting on the small couch that the children had been on when they had received their presents. His back was facing Bard and he could hear small sobs, his shoulders moving as he wept. Then it hit him. The angel was crying.

Bard didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t been in this kind of situation before. He stood there nervously, two beer bottles in his hands, his eyes locked to Thranduil’s back. He decided that he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing so he stepped forward and placed the beers on the table in front of the angel. His head was lowered to the floor, his silken hair falling over his shoulders, hiding his face. Bard reached hesitantly and placed his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, squeezing it. The angel raised his head but didn’t look at Bard. He pushed strands of hair behind his ear and Bard saw the tear lines on his smooth pale cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Crying is a natural emotion. I only wonder why you are crying.” Bard said, his hand still on the angel’s shoulder. Thranduil wiped his tears away and finally looked up at the older man. His eyes were shimmering like liquid crystals and his nose was runny. His lips were shiny from him licking them. He looked lost. Like a lost lamb who didn’t know what to do or what to think. Bard was not faced by the old soul but by the young man who needed affection.

“I’ve lost my little leaf.” Thranduil whimpered.

“Legolas? What do you mean you’ve lost Legolas?” Bard said. The angel looked down at the floor again, his hands limp on the soft material of the couch.

“My wife…she wants sole custody of him.”

Bard was just about to respond when he heard the clip-clop of heels. He turned around to see his two daughters and his son appear around the corner.

“Da, what do you thin-” Tilda began but Bard put a finger to his lips, his eyes darting from Thranduil to his children. All of them could see that they had interrupted a private moment. The angel didn’t look at the children. He didn’t want them to see him crying. He was the smirking beautiful man to them. Not a crying boy. Bard pointed at the direction the way his children had just come, signalling them to leave in the kindest way possible, his expression remorseful and gentle. Sigrid understood and directed her younger siblings back to their rooms so that they could look at each other’s presents again. Once they were gone, Bard apologised.

“It’s fine, Bard. It’s just…seeing the pictures of your children on the wall. It…they reminded me of Legolas…and how I might never see him again for a long time.” Thranduil whispered. Bard moved his hand from his shoulder to around both of them, pulling him closer. The angel obliged and leaned to the side so that his head rested on Bard’s abdomen.

“Tell me what happened.” Bard pleaded. Thranduil could not deny him. So he told him everything.

 

**

 

It was dark outside. The stars were out, twinkling in the sky as if they were winking. Bard sat outside on the perimeter on a perch that was positioned on the roof while Thranduil paced up and down the perimeter. Bard kept his eyes to him as he sauntered along. A mug of coffee sat in the angel’s hands which were now covered with his leather gloves, his coat unbuttoned but it still kept him warm against the cold. A slight breeze blew Bard’s hair around his shoulders, he too had a mug of coffee, steaming emanating from it. They had scraped the beers and opted for something more appropriate for such an intimate conversation. The lights in his apartment were on. In the window, he could see Sigrid practicing to walk in her heels while Tilda did twirls and spins, her new lilac dress flying around her. Bain sat on the floor, the Etch-and-Sketch and the train set on the table. He was completely immersed in both items, a smile on his young face. The view wasn’t much from where the two men were but the tips of buildings could be seen and the lights of New York City were beaming out like stars themselves. Bard took a sip of his hot coffee and looked at the angel. _His_ angel.

“Is there any point in…fighting it?” He asked.

“You mean the injunction?” Thranduil inquired, looking at the dark-haired man. He was handsome in the dim light, a golden glow from the lights complimenting his skin tone. His warm dark eyes sparkled even more at night. What Thranduil did to deserve to meet such a person, he didn’t know. Bard nodded and sipped his coffee again. Thranduil looked back up at the night sky and sighed, cold breath issuing from his mouth.

“No.”

“Jesus, three or four months without him. I feel so…helpless. Like I can’t help you or offer anything to-”

“It has nothing to do with you, Bard. You don’t have to do anything.”

“I wish I could.” Bard murmured. He blew his coffee gently before taking another gulp of it. He couldn’t imagine a life without his children. After his wife died, they were all he had. He needed them as much as they needed him. A thought suddenly struck him. But it wasn’t something that he wanted to leave unspoken.

“Your wife filed the injunction because of your relationship with Galion, right?” He asked. Thranduil turned to face him and nodded, raising the mug to his lips. Bard tapped his own mug with the tips of his fingers as his gaze went to the ground.

“If we…should ever…you know…my children could be taken away from me too. I can’t live with that. I wouldn’t survive without them.”

“I would make sure that that would never happen. I can see how much you love them. You treat them like gold and I love that about you. But I will not stop you if you don’t want to do this. It’s your decision, not mine.” Thranduil said, walking forward a couple of steps. His hair was like silver in the light and his skin was as white as the moon, his eyes an even more piercing blue. But he looked beautiful and Bard raised his head when the angel spoke to him. He saw how broken Thranduil was without his son. If his daughters and son were taken from his life, Bard would have no-one. Not even Thranduil could fill the hole in his heart that his children would leave behind. The angel would not be enough. Thranduil could see how frightened Bard was. And he couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want Bard to go through when he was experiencing. Bard did not deserve that. Thranduil didn’t want to be cause of Bard getting his children taken away from him. There was no way. But he wanted to try, see what a relationship with Bard _could_ be like.

“I’m going away for a while.”

_He’s leaving?_ Bard thought. _For how long?_ Maybe he needed to be by himself for a while. Get away and let his mind and soul breathe. Nevertheless, Bard was a little… dismayed, as it were. He loved spending time with Thranduil and so did the children. His life would become mundane again if the angel left.

“When?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?”

“Wherever my car will take me. West.” Thranduil answered. He was standing before Bard now, just a couple of feet away. Even though it was cold, Bard could feel the warmth radiating off of the angel’s body. He wanted to bury himself in that warmth and never resurface. Thranduil’s clothes were always so beautiful and bespoke but Bard wondered about what was underneath those layers. Planes of pale smooth skin, toned muscles and a marvellous bone structure. Was his skin as warm as Bard thought? He wanted to find out but it was not allowed. There was a huge risk involved. Bard couldn’t hide his dismay about the angel leaving and Thranduil felt guilty. He wanted to make Bard blush, laugh and smile, not upset him. There was a beat before he spoke softly.

“Well, I wondering…I thought perhaps…you’d like to come with me.”

It was a miracle that Bard didn’t let the mug of coffee slip through his fingers because the amount he was in shock was crazy. He felt like his heart had stopped beating. _Come with him? What about my children? Surely he knows that I can’t leave them…_ He hadn’t let his children for more than three or four days ever in his life. He needed to know how long the angel would be gone for.

“How long are you going for?”

“A few weeks. No more.” Thranduil answered.

“A few _weeks_ …?!” Bard muttered, his dark eyes wide. He looked away from the angelic man and became transfixed with the coffee in his mug. _My children need me… Sigrid would be suspicious. Bain would tell me to go. Tilda would ask if she could come too._ It was all too complicated that Bard couldn’t wrap his head around it. Once, his life had been so simple and so easy. But now… _Why must difficulty come with the most gorgeous man that I’ve ever seen?_ The great thing was that this angel liked him and wanted to spend time with him. _Percy would call me a twat for passing up an opportunity like this. He would want me to be happy. But my children are a part of my happiness. They give me joy. They are what keep me going every single day._ It wasn’t just the children needed Bard. He needed them. A few weeks without them would be something that he had never done before. He would be distracted. He would think about them every night. _Who would look after my children for a few weeks? I can’t possibly ask Mrs Baker to do that._ Then, an idea hit him. He had friends. They could do it in shifts. Mrs Baker could do one week while some of his friends could alternate. _It could work. I will never know if I don’t give it a shot._ He thought the same thing about being with Thranduil. Bard would never know what it would be like if he never tried. He looked up to discover that the angel was looking down at him with hope in his eyes that had captivated Bard from the first time he had looked into them.

“Will you?” Thranduil asked. He had never felt so desperate in his life. He was worried that he sounded like a begging dog. There was a long silent moment that killed Thranduil. If the man’s answer was no, he wanted to know. Dragging it out wasn’t going to make it any better. Frankly, it would make it worse. Then, he watched as a genuine smile crept across Bard’s lips, his skin crinkling around his eyes just the way Thranduil loved.

“Yes. Yes, I will come with you.”

Thranduil felt his heart did a leap of pure delight. If he could, he would kiss Bard right in that moment. But it wasn’t right. It was not yet time. Smiles were exchanged between the two of them, warm and infectious. Right on cue, like it was a romantic movie, snow began to fall from the heavens. Both men looked up, staring up at the shining stars. But the _real_ stars to Thranduil were the three children inside and the man sitting with him outside in the cold. He felt flecks of snow stick to his eyelashes and land on his shoulder. He felt something weave with the fingers of his free hand. He looked down to see that Bard was holding his hand, his eyes locked to the sky above. And both Thranduil and Bard knew where they were.

They had found a place where they could be together.

Where their hearts could be content.

Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it! Next up is Bard and Thranduil on their journey West! Something’s going to happen on their trip… ;) I love reading and replying to every single comment so keep leaving them! They and the kudos is what keeps me writing, I will definitely update again at the end of the week :D


	8. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil finally takes Bard on a journey West.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late again with this update! SO SORRY! Life is just crazy at the moment, hope it stops soon. On a good note, this is the longest chapter so far so read on and enjoy, my darlings :)

It was Christmas Eve and it was the day that Bard was going to travel with the angel named Thranduil Greenleaf. He wasn’t completely excited but he couldn’t hide the smile that was plastered on his face. He had gone to _Dale’s Deliveries_ and emptied all of his locker’s contents into his bag. All expect the handbook that detailed how to work at the shop. He had seen the Santa hat and wanted to leave it in there but then, he remembered the angel’s comment about it. He changed his mind and had grabbed it, putting it in his bag and leaving the store, ignoring the glare that Alfrid had given him.

Bard walked out onto the street and got into his car, chucking his bag on the passenger seat. He got the engine fired up and looked back at the store one last time before driving down the road. It would be the last time in a month he would see _Dale’s Deliveries_ and its terrible boss. The next few weeks he would spend with the angel. He had no idea where the angel was taking him but Bard liked that element of surprise. He was giddy on the inside and that was displayed through the smile that spread across Bard’s face.

When he pulled up outside his apartment block, he saw the angel walking up to the front doors. Bard got out of his car, shutting the door as he called out.

“Thranduil!”

The angel turned around at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw the dark-haired man taking his bag out of the passenger seat of his car.

“Bard! Good morning.” He smiled as the father of three walked up to him. He was covered up in his dark coat and scarf, a pair of nice pants and a V-neck jumper underneath. He looked good and Thranduil was salivating.

“I’ve just to get my suitcase and I’m ready. Would you like to come up and say hello to the kids?” Bard asked as he fished his keys out of his coat pocket and placing one in the lock.

“Of course.” Thranduil agreed as Bard opened the door and they walked in. They headed upstairs to Bard’s apartment and were welcomed with wholehearted “hellos” from the children and Mrs Baker who would look after them for one week. Bard went to get his suitcase, leaving his children with the angel, and Mrs Baker followed him to his bedroom. Bard opened his suitcase and began checking that he had packed everything.

“ _That’s_ the man you’re going away with?” The elderly woman asked.

“Yes, that’s him.” Bard answered, not looking at him.

“Where did you meet him?”

“At work. He’s a nice man. A good friend.”

“He’s not just a friend, Bard. I saw the way you two were looking at each other when you walked through the door.”

“I’m not in a relationship with him, Mrs Baker.” Bard sighed, zipping up his suitcase.

“You’d better not be, Bard. I’m sure you know the consequences.” Mrs Baker stated.

“Yes, I do.” Bard said and picked up his suitcase, brushing past her as he headed back to the living room. The sight that greeted him was a magical one.

The angel was sitting on the couch casually, still dressed in his coat and gloves, talking to Bain. The young boy had a glow in his wide eyes as he listened to Thranduil speak. Sigrid was elegantly weaving a braid at the back of the angel’s long white-blonde hair, an unbelievable look in her eyes as the strands fell through her fingers like silk. And little Tilda was seated on Thranduil’s knee, also listening to him talk. When Bard looked at them, he saw how much his children had accepted him. They loved him. It was like they were the family that Bard had been dreaming of ever since his wife had passed. He looked over his shoulder to see Mrs Baker also surveying the scene. He noticed the tiniest of smiles coming across her thin lips but she didn’t fully smile, not subjecting herself to that. Bard waited until Sigrid had finished doing the braid in Thranduil’s hair before speaking.

“I’m ready. Should we go?”

Thranduil and the children looked at him. Bain sighed and leaned back on the couch and Sigrid’s eyes were suspicious but saddened at the same time. Tilda, however, flung her arms around the angel’s neck but kept her gaze to her father.

“Please, Da, can’t we come with you?” She begged. Bard hated saying no to his children but it was not a trip they could come on. Bard and Thranduil had not had any proper time together that lasted more than a few hours. A few weeks were sure to make both of them happy.

“No, darling, but next time, we will all go away together.” Bard said.

“But I don’t want Mr. Thranduil to go!” Tilda cried, giving him a hug, burying her face in his neck. Thranduil wrapped one arm around her but looked at Bard. He could see how much he cared for the little girl and she for him.

“I have to go, little flower. But you will see your father and I soon, I promise.” He smiled, kissing the top of her head. Tilda let go of him reluctantly and he stood up, his height making Bard’s insides turn into nothing. He gave both Bain and Sigrid a big hug before gesturing for Bard to do the same. And so he did.

“I hope you have fun, Da.” Bain said.

“I will, thank you, son.” Bard smiled then turning to his youngest. Tilda hugged her father tightly and he felt her tremble in his arms, her eyes shimmering with tears.

“I’ll miss you a lot, Da. And Mr. Thranduil too.” She whispered.

“We’ll miss you too, darling. I’ll see if I can bring you a souvenir back, OK?” Bard said, wiping away the tears on his daughter’s cheeks and planted a kiss on her forehead. He then turned to Sigrid and she hugged him just as tightly as Tilda had. She placed a hand in his hair and closed her eyes.

“Be careful, Da.”

“I will, darling. Take care of your brother and sister for me, alright?” Bard said, holding his daughter firmly in his arms.

“I will, Da. Have a good time with Thranduil.”

Bard nodded and let go of her. She gave him a smile which he returned. Bard thanked Mrs Baker again before leaving the apartment with Thranduil by his side. There was a fresh layer of snow on the pavement and Thranduil wiped the flecks of snow off the windshield of his car while Bard dumped his suitcase in the boot. He closed it with a soft bang and walked over to the passenger side of the car. He put his hand on the handle and looked up at the window of his apartment to see his children waving goodbye. Bard raised his free hand and waved back at him. He turned around to see Thranduil standing on the other side of the car, waving as well. There was a cold wind which resulted in both of men having messy hair but neither of them cared. Bard stared at Thranduil but didn’t open the car door. The angel rested one hand on the roof of the car and looked at the dark-haired man. He saw the apprehension on his face, the frightened look in his eyes.

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asked. Bard looked up and shook his head, his eyes wide.

“No, no! It’s just…I’ve haven’t done this in a very long time.”

“Bard, if you don’t want to come…If you want to stay with your children, all you have to do is say so.”

“No, I want to come. I couldn’t let you go away by yourself.” Bard said. And with that, he opened the door and got into the car, shutting the door after him. Thranduil smiled to himself and got into the driver’s seat, closing the door, blocking out the winter wind. The car started up and music from the radio rose, a welcoming sound to Bard’s ears. A swirl of steam issued from the exhaust pipe and Thranduil joined the traffic on the road.

“So, where exactly are we going?” Bard asked. Thranduil smirked and glanced at Bard quickly, answering his question.

“You’ll see.”

 

**

 

Later, they stopped because Thranduil needed to go to the toilet. He went into the diner on the other side of the street while Bard stayed in the car. His coat and scarf as well as Thranduil’s coat and gloves were sitting in the back seat, strewn over the leather seats. Bard grabbed his bag and pulled out the angel’s present. He placed it in his lap and looked at it. He had purchased it the same time he had bought his children’s presents. It held a personal meaning to Bard and he thought that sharing it with Thranduil would make him feel like he was a part of his life.

A few minutes later, the angel emerged from the diner and got back into the car, his shoulders shivering.

“God, it’s shitting cold out there. What’s that?” He asked, eyeing the thin square-shaped present in the other man’s lap. Bard looked at Thranduil and handed him the present.

“Merry Christmas.” He said with a smile. Thranduil took the present gingerly in his hands and smiled back at Bard. He gently pulled apart from the wrapping paper to reveal a record. He also saw that it was one he didn’t own.

“I played it for you. When my children and I came to your house.” Bard stated.

“Yes, I remember. Thank you.”

“It was the first tune my…wife taught me to play.” Bard choked on his words and looked out of the windshield, the snow continuing to fall. Thranduil didn’t know how to respond to that so he kept quiet and turned the record around, reading the words printed on the back. While the angel was distracted, Bard reached into his bag again and pulled out his new camera. He leaned back as far as possible, his back against the car door. He raised the camera to his eyes and snapped a picture just as Thranduil looked in his direction.

“Oh, no! I look terrible…” He gasped, dropping the record. Fortunately, it landed in his lap safely. Bard lowered the camera and reached out to touch Thranduil’s hand.

“You don’t look terrible. You look…beautiful.” Bard said hesitantly, his fingers wrapping around the angel’s hand and lowering it down into his lap. Thranduil looked at Bard with tender eyes but Bard was not embarrassed. He was captivated.

“Just…stay like that.” He said. Bard then realised that he was holding Thranduil’s hand. He felt his cheeks flush a little which made the angel smile. He placed his other hand on top of Bard’s and looked at him softly.

“Do you miss your wife?” He asked. Bard didn’t need any time to think about his answer because he knew what it was.

“Yes. Every day. But I am happy now. I feel like I am home.”

“Hmm…home.” Thranduil murmured as he turned the hand that was underneath Bard’s over and he weaved his youthful fingers with that of the older man’s. Bard almost dropped his camera in a reaction of shock but he didn’t. He looked down at his hand which was encased in both of Thranduil’s, warm and smooth. The temperature inside the car raised a couple of degrees and it wasn’t from their bodies. The sound of cars zooming past on the street didn’t interrupt them nor did the people walking past on the pavement. The windows had fogged up and snow distorted the view out of the windscreen. Both men were invisible to the outside world. Bard couldn’t take his eyes off Thranduil’s beautiful hands. He wished he had hands like his. So perfect and elegant with long pale fingers with perfectly-shaped nails. He didn’t know what the angel saw in him. He was so… dull compared to him. So different. But, as people say, opposite do attract. Thranduil raised his left hand and placed his fingers underneath Bard’s chin, lifting his dark eyes to his bright pale blue ones. He felt Bard swallow deeply and he smiled softly at that. Thranduil moved his fingers to the older man’s cheek, gliding over his skin like a feather. Bard’s hand trembled in the angel’s. He didn’t know what he was getting into. He couldn’t think straight. His eyes were locked to the angel’s one and he couldn’t look away. He was magnetised. Then, without even realising it, Bard found himself leaning closer to the angel’s face. There was a voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop but he couldn’t. He was being pulled nearer like the angel and himself were magnets. Thranduil moved a strand of loose hair behind Bard’s ear before his fingers came to rest on the side of his neck, his thumb soaring over his cheek. He lowered his eyes to Bard’s lips. Thranduil wanted to know what they felt like when pressed against his own. What they tasted like, how good of a kisser he was. They were so close that they could feel each other’s breath on their skin. This could be the moment when they would share their first kiss. Bard had dreamed about it since he first saw the angel but something told him that doing it in a car wasn’t the right way to do. Their foreheads had just brushed when Bard suddenly pulled back a little and looked down at the dashboard. Thranduil did have doubts of what Bard would do and they had sadly come true. Bard moved back into his seat and let go of the angel’s hand, looking away. He couldn’t bear to look at the angel, afraid that he would look heartbroken. To kiss Thranduil would be wonderful, magic, intoxicating. But Bard didn’t want to do it in a car. It just didn’t seem right to him. Thranduil stared at the dark-haired man before leaning back in his own seat.

“Thank you for the record, Bard.” He said, placing it in the back seat. Bard nodded as the angel turned the car back on and they joined the traffic again.

That night, it was quiet on the road. Thranduil was still wide awake, because he had drank coffee while he drove. The radio was off and all that could be heard was the slight patter of gentle rain. His hands were on the steering wheels, the headlights on so he had a clear view where he was going. There was a quiet snore next to him and he smiled when he looked to his right.

Bard was asleep in his seat, his head resting on the lower-half of the window. He was covered in a warm plaid blanket that Thranduil had given him a couple of hours earlier. He looked peaceful, like he was dreaming about something nice. And indeed he was. The touch of cherry-red lips against his own and silken hair tickling his face, fingertips caressing his neck and chest. Bard smiled as he dreamt of the angel. Thranduil could look at Bard all day and not get bored. When sound asleep, he looked young. He was handsome and the angel loved everything about him. He was ecstatic to spend some quality time with him. Thranduil was far away from his wife and their divorce. He was far away from his little leaf but he would see him again. Whatever it took, he would see his son again. He took his right hand off the wheel and moved the blanket over Bard’s shoulder, smoothing it out with fondness. The glow of the Pittsburgh Industrial skyline slowly dimmed as the car drove in the opposite direction, darkness ahead of it. Thranduil put his hand behind his head and felt the braid in his hair. Sigrid had done a brilliant job of weaving it. It made him feel like a part of their family, the record Bard had given him made him feel the same way. He adored the children and Bard and wanted to be with him. As he drove down the dark road, he thought of the three children back in the city. He would see them again soon too. He knew he would.

 

**

 

She heard the sound of a car’s wheels squealing outside her small house. Tauriel lived alone and she liked it that way. She was perfectly happy with her life. It was Thranduil’s life she tended to worry about more than her own. She got out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown, wrapping it around her. Tauriel pushed the thin curtain away from the window and saw a car parking just outside, its headlights bright. She heard the sound of a car door opening and closing and squinted to see who it was but the headlights were too blinding. What transpired next was a ferocious knocking on the front door.

“Who the hell is coming here to _my_ house right now?” Tauriel muttered under her breath as she went to her front door. Her first thought was Thranduil but she remembered he was driving away from New York City with his new “friend”. The knocking didn’t stop until Tauriel opened the door. In front of her wasn’t Thranduil. It wasn’t any of her friends. It was someone who Tauriel hadn’t seen for many weeks. It was Elizabeth.

“I have to speak with him.” She said, out of breath. Tauriel saw that she looked tired but her pupils were dilated and a few messy curls were coming loose from her bun. Tauriel looked at the car, the headlights were now off, then back to Elizabeth.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Florida.” She stated, narrowing her green eyes. Elizabeth just stared at her with bright sapphire eyes, her bright red lips parted and her shoulders slumping underneath her dark grey coat.

“I couldn’t leave without him. Legolas wants to see his father tomorrow, on Christmas Day. It’s not like it’s any of your business, Tauriel. Just get him for me. I know he’s here.” Elizabeth snapped. Tauriel glared at her and tightened the belt around her green dressing gown before folding her arms sternly.

“You’ve really got some fucking nerve ordering me about. No, he’s not here.” Tauriel growled, a fire burning in her eyes, as vibrant as the colour of her hair.

“That’s not possible. He’s not at home with his…butler. And he’s not with me. He must be with you.” Thranduil’s wife retorted, cold breath coming out of her mouth. Tauriel peered closely at the woman she had once called one of her closest friends. There was some kind of...jealousy hidden in her voice but Tauriel could pick it out. Then, her eyes widened.

“You think he’s having an affair with me?!” She chuckled, completely shocked. _I can’t believe she would think that. Thranduil’s like a brother to me! I’ve never loved him in that way._ Tauriel was so surprised that she was laughing which clearly infuriated Elizabeth. Her lips quivered with anger and her eyes were dark. She didn’t know what to say because it was somewhat true what Tauriel had just suggested. The redhead stopped laughing and continued to provoke the blonde woman in front of her.

“You have a point, actually, Elizabeth. You’ve spend about six years making damned sure Thranduil’s only point of reference is you. His only focus in life is you, your friends, your family, everything.”

“Where. Is. He?” Elizabeth snarled. She was like a lioness trying to protect her baby cub. It was frankly ridiculous, to Tauriel anyway. She remembered what Thranduil told her yesterday.

_If she can’t have me, I can’t have Legolas._

It broke Tauriel’s heart when she had heard those words. She knew how much Legolas meant to him. It was only him that kept Thranduil and Elizabeth together. And now, he was the reason they were fighting. Tauriel could not tell Elizabeth about Bard. She could not tell him that her husband was with a man, driving away from the main city. Tauriel didn’t _want_ to. Thranduil deserved some peace with someone he liked immensely and she didn’t want to take that away from him. Bard made him happy and Tauriel wanted Thranduil to be happy. That’s all she wanted from him.

Elizabeth sighed and shuffled her feet and the expression of anger disappeared from her face, replaced with a look of begging, pleading, wanting.

“He’s still my husband, Tauriel. I care for him.”

“Well, slapping him with an injunction is some way of showing how much you _care_ for him, Elizabeth. I’m closing the door now.” Tauriel said. She began to close the door but Elizabeth placed her hand on the wood and pushed, shoving the door open again. Tauriel started at her with cold eyes.

“Please. I love him.” Elizabeth begged. Tauriel wanted to believe her but she didn’t. Maybe deep down, she still loved Thranduil but at this point in time, Tauriel did not see that love at all. She shook her head and sighed.

“I can’t help you with that.”

And, she shut the door in Elizabeth’s face without uttering another word. Tauriel leaned against it, biting her lip. The Elizabeth she just confronted was not the Elizabeth she once cared about and was friends with. Something had happened to her. Tauriel waited until she heard the sound of heels receding and the roar of car engines as it drove away. She went back to bed but Tauriel had trouble falling asleep. Who could blame her?

 

**

 

Bard had enjoyed the motel just outside Pittsburgh. His room had been comfy and he had wonderful dreams thanks to the soft sheets and warm pillows. He stepped out of his room, all dressed for the day ahead, his suitcase gripped tightly in his right hand. Bard walked over to the room next to his and knocked twice on the door.

“Thranduil?”

There was no answer. _Is he still asleep?_ But Bard was curious so he put his hand on the doorknob and pushed. It was open. He walked inside and heard the sound of running water. Then he realised that the angel was in the shower. The thought of him all wet and soaking, drops of clear water beaded on his skin, his white-blonde hair sticking to his back and shoulders, made Bard all giddy and something twitched with stimulation in his pants. He knew they would stay in separate rooms and he was tempted to get into the angel’s bed a couple of times during the night. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to scare the angel away.

Bard saw Thranduil’s suitcase open on his bed, his clothes and accessories spread out across the mattress. His room was identical to Bard’s, just the other way around. Bard put his suitcase down just as he heard the angel’s voice from the bathroom.

“Bard? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He called back.

“Do you mind fetching my white dress shirt? It’s on the upper right hand corner of my suitcase.”

“OK.” Bard said and went over to Thranduil’s suitcase. He took a moment to look at the angel’s clothes. They looked so expensive and were folded neatly and perfectly without a crease or a crinkle. Wool sweaters, dress shirts, two suit jackets with matching pants. He reached out and stroked the clothes. They were so soft and the fabrics were lavish. Bard found Thranduil’s white dress shirt and picked it up, the cotton fabric cool in his hands. He raised it to his nose and inhaled its odour. It smelt like the angel, making Bard’s heart soften into wax. He looked down at the suitcase and saw a glint of metal peeking out from underneath a pair of pants. Curious, Bard held the shirt in one hand while he moved the pants over with his other hand. He fought the urge to gasp when he saw the gun inlaid with silver. Bard knew that he shouldn’t pick it up but he did. The weapon was cold in his palm and he couldn’t believe he was holding a real gun. The question going through Bard was: _Why has Thranduil got a gun in his suitcase?_ Maybe he felt as though he was in danger or that someone was following him. Maybe he was cautious. Bard was still examining the gun when the angel’s voice made him jump.

“Hey, slowpoke!” Thranduil called from the bathroom. Bard gulped and placed the gun back where it was and readjusted the pair of pants over it.

“Found it!” He said and walked over to the bathroom. He knocked on the door lightly and it opened to reveal Thranduil clothed only in a white towel wrapped around his waist. Bard stared at the muscles of his torso and his arms, his damp hair a shade darker as it stuck to his shoulders. He was so stunning, it should be impossible. But Thranduil was real and Bard was with him. Steam filtered out of the bathroom, making Bard gulp. He handed the angel his shirt which he accepted with a smile. Thranduil spotted the look of alarm in Bard’s eyes and raised his eyebrows at him.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. I’m just…hungry, all of a sudden.” Bard concocted up on the spot.

“Me too. I won’t be a minute.” Thranduil said, flashing the older man another smile and closing to the door to get dressed. And all Bard could think about was the gun hidden under the angel’s clothing.

 

The trees were still around them and the landscape was covered in frost and snow. It looked cold but beautiful. A winter wonderland. _Tilda would love this. So would Sigrid and Bain._ Bard thought and Thranduil thought the same thing about his son. Legolas had always loved the snow and loved making snowmen and snowballs. Bard reached behind his seat to grab a sandwich in the basket in the back seat and took a bite of it as he settled back into his seat. He looked at Thranduil, whose eyes were glued to the road ahead, his tinted sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Do you feel safe? I mean, with me?” Bard asked. Thranduil tapped the steering wheels and chuckled softly.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

But Bard didn’t laugh in return. He was serious. Nobody had a gun in their suitcase for no reason. Bard wanted to know if this angel felt safe in his company. Because if he didn’t, Bard would not feel safe either. It scared him that there was a gun in the back seat. It didn’t exactly make Bard feel comfortable.

“Do you?” He pressed further. Thranduil glanced at him and Bard held his gaze. It only lasted a second before the angel turned his attention back to the road.

“It’s the wrong question.”

“But you would tell me if you were scared. If something frightened you. And I could help.” Bard said, taking another bite of his sandwich. He never looked away from the angel who looked so calm. Bard’s heart raced fast. He didn’t want the angel, _his_ angel, to be scared. Bard wanted to protect him. If he was in trouble, Bard wanted to help him. Thranduil shook his head and smiled to himself.

“I’m not frightened, Bard.”

Bard didn’t seem satisfied but it was the best he could do for now. He couldn’t just ask him why he’s got a gun in his suitcase. That would be the wrong thing to do. So Bard leaned back in his seat and stared at the view outside the car, his thoughts still about what Thranduil had with him on this journey.

 

**

 

It was dusk when they reached Canton, Ohio. Thranduil drove his car into the drive of McKinley Hotel. It looked cosy enough and Bard was intrigued. He had never stayed in the motel before so he was up for anything. They exited the car together and grabbed their suitcases and bags. They entered the main office and Thranduil walked up to the front desk where a female hotel manager with dark brown hair curled at the ends sat. Bard waited as the angel and the hotel manager talked about checking in.

“Our standard rooms contain stereophonic console radios or the Presidential Suite is vacant if you prefer it. At a very pleasant price, mind you.” The hotel manager informed. Thranduil thought for a moment, his forearms resting on the desk.

“Two standard rooms should be fine, thank you.” He said. Bard bit his lip. It was now or never.

“Why not take the Presidential Suite?” He suggested. Both Thranduil and the female hotel manager looked at him. Bard glanced at both of them and shrugged his shoulders.

“If the price is pleasant…” He trailed off. He could see a smirk playing on the angel’s lips and it made Bard’s heart skip a beat. His crystalline eyes sparkled as he turned back around to face the hotel manager.

“We’ll take the Presidential Suite then.”

True to the name, the suite was beautiful. Framed photographs of William McKinley (the motel was named after him) and his wife were positioned above the twin beds. There was a dressing table with a large mirror and on the bedside cabinets were gold-specked lamps. The wallpaper was pristine, a gentle beige colour that was easy on the eyes. The record Thranduil had received from Bard was playing softly, its soft sound echoing around the room. Bard placed his suitcase on the floor and dumped his bag on the bed but Thranduil didn’t even make it that far. He simply dropped what he was carrying and collapsed onto the small couch sitting opposite the beds.

“Ah, that’s better.” He sighed, folding his arms behind his head and stretching out his legs, crossing his ankles over. Bard shed his coat and draped it over the bed, unlooping his scarf from around his neck.

“Oh, I’m glad you suggested we take this suite, Bard.” Thranduil smiled.

“Yes, it’s nice, isn’t it?” He responded, only half-heartedly. The gun still lingered in his mind. It wasn’t something he could just forget about. _I shouldn’t have gone through his clothes._ He cursed himself but he couldn’t change the past. Thranduil glanced at Bard who was opening his bag and looking inside it. He didn’t look the same, he was different. He sounded…scared. But Thranduil didn’t want to be scared.

“What’s wrong?” He asked but Bard didn’t answer. He just shook his head in response, stating that nothing was wrong and he was fine. But Thranduil wasn’t buying it. He swung his legs over to the left and planted his feet on the floor, leaning back on the couch comfortably.

“Bard, tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded, trying to be as gentle as possible. Bard heard the harsh tone in the angel’s voice and swallowed deeply. He looked at him to find his eyes were like crystal pools of blue fire and his skin was glowing beautifully from the golden light in the suite. He was so beautiful and Bard wanted to tell him but he couldn’t, afraid that he would piss the angel off. So he lied.

“I just hope my children are OK without me.”

Thranduil sighed and stood up, the hem of his coat streaming over the couch.

“I’m sure they are fine, Bard. Sigrid is a tough girl, she’ll take care of Bain and Tilda.”

“Yes, I hope so.” Bard muttered, nodding his head. Thranduil sighed again and took off his warm coat, revealing the white dress shirt Bard had handed him that morning and grey suit pants covered his long legs. The muscles that lay beneath made Bard shiver. That stunning body that he had only had a glimpse of. He wanted to touch him, run his fingers over the planes of his chest and kiss him in the most intimate of places. Bard shook those thoughts out of his head and picked up his suitcase, plonking it down next to his bag. He unzipped it and began searching through its contents, already deciding what to wear tomorrow. Thranduil could see that Bard was trying to cover something up. He had found something out and Thranduil knew what it was. He went to his suitcase and opened it, pulling on the gun from underneath his clothes. He held it up for Bard to see.

“It’s about this, isn’t it?”

Bard looked up from his suitcase and his eyes widened at the gun in the angel’s right hand. _Oh, shit! I am in big trouble now._ He dropped the shirt he was holding and a flash of terror came across his dark eyes.

“How did you kno-”

“I’m not an idiot, Bard. I knew there was a reason you took so long to get me my shirt this morning.” Thranduil said, walking towards the older man.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop apologising, Bard. You do it too much.” He cut him off with a shake of his head. He halted next to him and Bard’s eyes darted from the gun to the angel’s attractive face.

“If you have this gun, why are you hiding it?” Bard asked.

“Because I didn’t want to frighten you. You look frightened now.” Thranduil stated.

“I am frightened because you caught me snooping through your suitcase. Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends are curious. And you were. Please, Bard, don’t be scared.” The angel smiled softly, placing his hand on Bard’s shoulder. Bard felt his stomach do a backflip at the contact and his skin beneath his jumper succumbed to a flurry of goosebumps. It was ridiculous to Bard the way this man could affect him. He was like a moth to a flame, Thranduil was the flame. But then he remembered something Percy had told him when he called him on the phone after Thranduil had left.

_This man is like fire. Stand too close and people get burnt._

_Maybe I should be more scared of the angel than the gun._ Bard thought. He knew what he was getting into. He knew the consequences but he would make sure that the law/government would never find out. Thranduil was someone that he wanted to be with and people not allowing that broke Bard’s heart. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. The corners of Bard’s lips tugged up as he placed his hand over the gun in the angel’s hand so that it was pressed cold against both of their palms. Thranduil stared at him with gentle eyes.

“I’m not scared. Not when I’m with you.” Bard whispered. And in that moment, Thranduil felt his heart beat with an emotion he had not felt for years.

Love.

 

The next morning in the motel office, Bard sat in the breakfast room with a roll and a cup of coffee in front of him. He met a young man who introduced himself as Christopher and they striked up a good conversation. Then, Thranduil came over and sat down next to Bard. Christopher introduced himself to Thranduil who did the same in return. Thranduil took out his map and laid it over the table, pointing at Chicago and telling Bard they would get there by five or six o’clock that afternoon. Christopher stated that he was heading that way too. It was no secret to Bard that the young man was annoying the shit out of Thranduil. There were times when the angel looked at Bard with the telepathic message: _Tell him to fuck off._ Bard was worried and surprised that Thranduil was pissed off at the young man for just making conversation but he quickly deduced that the angel was jealous of Christopher talking to him. But Bard never told him that, knowing Thranduil would deny it. But Bard knew the truth. And they left that morning, bidding goodbye to Christopher. Or at least, Bard did.

It was 5:35pm in the evening when Thranduil and Bard arrived at Drake Hotel in Chicago. A bellboy carried their bags into a luxurious room. Thranduil thanked him and gave him a generous tip while Bard just looked around with huge eyes. When he agreed to go with Thranduil, he hadn’t known he would be staying in such opulent rooms. But the angel was rich and Bard couldn’t say no to anything so beautiful. He watched as Thranduil fell down onto one of the beds, his long hair fanning out around him. He truly was a masterpiece to see and photograph.

“Finally! A real bed. Heaven.” The angel sighed with happiness, folding his hands over his stomach. Bard looked up, examining the contents of the room. He ran his fingers over the soft bed sheets and smiled.

“These sheets are like silk, Thranduil! I feel terrible sleeping in them. And the carpet…!” He trailed off, looking at the swirling patterns of the carpet on the floor. When he heard no response, he looked at Thranduil to find him fast asleep on the bed. Seizing the chance, Bard grabbed his camera out of his suitcase and stepped up to the angel’s bed quietly, not wanting to wake him up. He stood in front of him and snapped a glorious picture of him. As Bard lowered the camera, he filled up with anticipation at the thought of hanging the picture up on his wall. He walked around the bed so that he was looking at Thranduil’s face the other way around. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the angel’s forehead. His skin was so soft beneath his lips and Thranduil sighed in his sleep. Bard waited, never taking his eyes off of the angel, until he woke up and they went off to have a late dinner at the restaurant in the hotel.

 

The next day, Bard stood in line to pick up some mail at the Central Post Office. His children had told him they would send him a few letters during his trip with Mr. Greenleaf. He looked over at the phone booth to see Thranduil standing inside it, the phone placed against his left ear, his fingers punching in a line of numbers. Bard saw that it was his turn to get his mail and stepped forward with a smile on his face.

Thranduil heard the line ringing and he looked at Bard. He wasn’t watching which Thranduil was thankful for. Then, there was the sound of someone picking up the phone on the other end. He closed his eyes when he heard their voice.

_Elizabeth Greenleaf, speaking._

Thranduil didn’t respond. He just leaned his head against the machine and exhaled. He didn’t know why he was calling his wife. He didn’t love her anymore but he still respected her. _Why am I doing this?_ He asked himself. He heard his wife sigh with frustration on the other end of the line.

_Thranduil, is that you? If it is, this is enough. Where are you, goddamnit…? Hello, please talk to me._

He was once again unresponsive. He couldn’t find the right words so he hung up, hanging the phone back onto the machine. He sighed and saw Bard walking away from the main desk, two letters clutched in his hands. Thranduil took a deep breath and walked out of the phone booth and joined Bard.

“Is it from the children?” He asked.

“Yes. Well, one of them is. The other letter is from a friend of mine, Percy. Aren’t you going to check your mail?” Bard raised his eyebrows as they approached the exit.

“Nobody knows I’m here.” Thranduil replied.

“Were you…calling someone?” Bard asked hesitantly, his warm eyes sparkling, the top-half of his dark hair pulled back away from his face. Thranduil noticed he hadn’t shaved and his facial hair was growing but he liked it. He couldn’t wait to touch it with his fingers.

“No, I was in the men’s room.” Thranduil lied and walked out of the glass door, his hair flying out behind him. Bard watched him for a moment, trying to figure out why the angel wouldn’t tell him the truth. But he decided to not let that get in the way. He was having a great time with Thranduil and the only reason he wished to return home was to see his children. Bard followed Thranduil out and then they were off again, heading off to their next stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By my calculations, we’re just over the halfway mark, people! See you for Chapter 9 where a big thing is going to happen… ;P


	9. I Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s New Year’s Eve. Bard and Thranduil finally acknowledge their strong feelings for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ! It's been SO LONG since I've updated! I'm not dead, just life has been so bloody crazy and I lost track of time...I know that's no excuse but I hope you guys can forgive me, if you're still reading this! On a positive note, the "big" chapter is here! I hope you like it and comment if you have a moment to spare :) Seriously, it means so much to me!
> 
> WARNING: The smut has arrived! I have never written a male/male sex scene before so please be gentle with me! But I hope you enjoy it :)

“Well, this is a problem.” Thranduil said as he looked down at the front left tire of his car.

It was flat.

Bard knelt down next to Thranduil and touched the drooping tire. It was warm beneath his fingers, radiating force. They were on Lake Shore Drive and snow layered the sides of the road, frost hanging from the branches of trees. Bard was just about to ask Thranduil what they were going to do when there was the sound of a car driving up the road towards. Thranduil held out his arm to flag it down as Bard stood up. The car kindly stopped and the door opened to reveal Christopher, the man they had met at the McKinley Hotel in Ohio.

“Well, what in the world?” Bard gasped as Christopher approached them.

“What do you know? I thought I recognised you two!” The young man said with a smile. He crouched down next to the car and inspected the tire. Thranduil folded his arms and glanced at Bard who was looking at Christopher, waiting for a response.

“It’s flat, alright. Hopefully, you didn’t dent the rim.” He said.

“I did feel something pulling, then a grinding noise.” Thranduil informed, his tone as icy as the colour of his eyes. Bard looked at him, confused at the disdain of the angel’s voice. _Christopher has stopped to help us. Why are you so…cold towards him?_ Bard wanted to ask but Christopher was right there. He decided that he would ask Thranduil later on.

“Hmmm, right. Well, I can jack her up for you.” Christopher said.

“Uh, we don’t think there is one.” Bard muttered. The young man looked up at the angel and the dark-haired man with raised eyebrows.

“No jack?”

Bard glanced at Thranduil who returned his gaze. The look in his eyes told Bard to be the one to respond. Bard couldn’t refuse, because the angel was beautifully terrifying when he was angry.

“We left it at home.”

“That came happen sometimes, Bard. Not to worry, I have a jack. I can jack your car up for you and you can use my spare tire.” Christopher said, giving Bard a smile which made Thranduil fume.

“But…what about you?” Bard asked.

“I’m heading home from here. I’ve got plenty of spares back home. Luckily, there’s not rim damage so it shouldn’t take too long.” Christopher explained, standing up and heading over to his car to get the tools he needed.

Forty-five minutes later, Christopher was propping his arms over the hood of the car, his hands stained black from the car’s engine. He wiped his sweaty brow as he continued to work. Bard was leaning into the back seat of the car, fetching the thermos that contained coffee. The radio played softly, a relaxing sound, echoing off the frosty landscape. He shut the car door and walked around to the back where the angel was leaning against the boot, his arms folded as he looked out at the road they had just driven on. Bard handed Thranduil the thermos. The angel gladly took it with a tender smile, wrapping his pale fingers around the thermos and taking a sip of coffee.

“I’m famished.” Thranduil said, licking his lips.

“So am I.” Bard agreed, also leaning against the boot of the car. The sky was grey and the wind was cold but snow wasn’t falling. Neither of them had expected for the car to break down along with a flat tire. It threatened to put a damper on their trip but Bard nor Thranduil gave into it. The angel looked over his shoulder and saw Christopher working, trying to best to fix the car. Thranduil owed him one for stopping his car and asking them what was wrong but he couldn’t shake the fact that it was Christopher. A coincidence like that just didn’t happen. And if it did, it was very rare. He heard Christopher grunt then go back to work.

“It was good of him to stop.” Thranduil whispered. Bard nodded and pulled his coat tighter around him as the wind tousled his dark hair.

“I know.”

A silence followed. The howl of the wind was gentle and the young man fixing the car continued to work with a grumble every now and then. Thranduil took another sip of coffee and sighed as the hot liquid flowed down his throat. It was a wonderful feeling. Bard eyed the angel’s free hand which rested by his side. _Just do it, come on. Just do it._ He told himself. So he did. Bard tentatively unfolded his arms and laced his fingers with the angel’s. His skin was cold but for reason, it made Bard feel warm. Thranduil looked down at his hand then to Bard.

“You OK?” Bard asked.

“Of course.”

“Are you sorry we came?”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Bard in confusion and made no attempt to let go of his hand. It made his heart rise. He felt something glorious. He knew he loved Bard but he didn’t want to tell him yet, afraid that he would not feel the same way. Thranduil had already married once for love and he now loved the man standing next to him but he didn’t want to stuff up his relationship with Bard. This was his second chance and he didn’t want to ruin it.

“On the trip? No. Are you?” Thranduil asked. He began to worry that Bard was having second thoughts. If he had to drive Bard back to New York, he would. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want Bard to leave. He didn’t want the man he loved to leave. Not now. Not ever. The smile that appeared on Bard’s face made Thranduil feel so good. It made his warm dark eyes sparkle. The angel couldn’t get enough of looking at the dark-haired man. It only made him love Bard even more. Thranduil felt Bard’s fingers squeeze his, warmth spreading all over his body.

“No.”

The moment was broken when they heard the sound of the car starting up again. Christopher climbed out of the driver’s seat, wiping his hands on his pants. Thranduil was livid to think that the man left black dust in his car and on the steering wheels. His car was like another child. He looked at it and was at home inside it. Bard let his fingers slip away (very reluctantly) from Thranduil’s and sat up as Christopher approached the two of them.

“Marvellous!” Thranduil cried, patting the boot with his free hand.

“Well, it will get you to your next stop but you should get it checked out at a garage. New hose. The people will tell you the same thing.” Christopher suggested.

“Thank you very much, Christopher.” Bard smiled softly, nodding his head.

“What do we owe you?” Thranduil asked. He wanted to be polite, especially for Bard. Christopher waved his hand and shook his head.

“Nothing at all, sir. It was no trouble.”

“Well, for the tire at least.” Thranduil pressed but Christopher shook his head again.

“No need, sir. Like I said, I’ve got a collection of spares.”

“Well, thank you. For stopping to help and fixing my car.” Thranduil lowered his head in a form of gratitude.

“You are most welcome.” Christopher declared with the same lowering of the head. Thranduil didn’t say anything else as he walked along the side of his car and getting into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him. That left Bard and Christopher alone. It was awkward and uncertain. Bard folded his arms, hunching his shoulders to get a little warmer.

“Happy New Year, Bard.” Christopher said in farewell.

“Happy New Year to you too, Christopher.” Bard spoke. And with that, the young man walked back over to his car and getting into it. With a wave of his hand, Christopher drove off in the same direction Bard and Thranduil were heading to as well. Bard watched the car disappear down the road before his gaze fell upon the back of the angel’s head. He was still, his hands already on the steering wheel. Bard felt a sudden urge of longing and joined Thranduil in the car. Then, they were off again.

 

**

 

It was 10:30pm when they reached Waterloo, Iowa. Thranduil pulled into the carpark of the Josephine Motor Lodge and they checked into their cabin. It was beautiful but sufficient. Twin beds with quilted headboards. The radio was on, a New Year’s Eve broadcast echoing around the room. Their dinner was simple: just some ham and cheese sandwiches. Neither of them were very hungry. Thranduil sipped beer from a bottle while Bard sat on one of the beds, also having a beer. They were just two men, enjoying a beer together. The countdown to the New Year began on the radio, all the way down to zero. When it was midnight, both Bard and Thranduil raised their beers into the air.

“Happy New Year, Bard.” The angel whispered with a smile.

“Happy New Year, Thranduil.” Bard repeated, taking a gulp of his beer.

“Elizabeth and I never spend New Year’s Eve together. There was always something happening. Always clients to entertain.” The angel said, looking at the floor.

“The kids and I have always celebrated it together. And with Maria when she had been alive. It was lonely without her when she had passed.” Bard looked at Thranduil who had raised his eyes from the floor. A smile spread across the dark-haired man’s face.

“I’m not alone now.”

Thranduil smiled back and took another sip of his beer. He went and shut the radio off so it was now silent in the room. He walked back over to where he was standing and placed the bottle down on a small dressing table in front of a mirror. He looked at his reflection. His long hair was slightly tangled and he was clothed in nothing but a maroon shower robe, the belt tied around his waist tightly. He saw his own pupils dilate with desire. He could hear his own heart beat with anticipation. He was in a private cabin with a man he loved, celebrating the start of 1953 with him. So Thranduil wanted to show how much he cared for Bard. How much he loved him.

Bard tapped his bottle of beer with his fingers, staring at the angel. He was so beautiful. It never ceased to stun Bard how gorgeous Thranduil was. How did a man of his kindness, vulnerability and beauty even exist? Bard did not know and he did not want to know. He just wanted to marvel at the angelic man all day and all night for as long as possible.

He heard the angel sigh and turn to face him. They looked into each other’s eyes and Bard was lost in them. His lips parted when the angel’s hands went to the belt around his waist, untying the knot. Bard sucked in a gasp when the front of the angel’s robe opened, revealing the naked body of Mr. Thranduil Greenleaf. Bard kept a strong grip on his beer bottle. He didn’t want to drop because that would make such a mess on the carpet. But he was holding the bottle so hard that he thought it was going to smash in his hand. His chest was a thing of magnificence, the bones strong beneath his snowy-white skin. Bard’s eyes travelled down the angel’s body, admiring the muscles flexing on his torso. He thought he was in heaven. Bard had never seen a naked man before, despite being attracted to the same sex. Thranduil really was a delicious sight to look at. His long legs were muscular and exquisite. Bard could not wait to touch them, feel the muscles flex from his touch, the skin shiver from his caresses. The angel’s member was indeed impressive. He was aroused, anyone could see that. It made Bard feel aroused too as his own member grew. He salivated at the man standing before him. He knew that tonight was the night.

The look on Bard’s face was priceless. He looked aroused and nervous at the same time. It then occurred to Thranduil that Bard probably had not seen a man naked before, let alone make love with one. But with this information in mind, it only made Thranduil want Bard’s first time with a man to be slow and romantic.

He stepped up to Bard who remained completely still sitting on the bed. He intertwined his fingers with the older man’s and gently took the beer bottle out of his other hand, setting it down next to his own. The light in the room was a muted gold, soft and hazy which seemed to relax Bard a little. He could feel his heart pounding, beating against his ribcage extremely fast. The angel was going to give himself to him and Bard didn’t know what to think. He had thought about this moment from the first moment he had laid eyes on the angel but now, with it actually about to happen, all of his thought processes no longer worked. The feeling of the angel’s fingers weaving with his was sweet and he moved his in return, letting Thranduil know that he wanted to. He felt the angel’s hand underneath his chin, titling his head back to look up at him. The look in Thranduil’s eyes was so delicate, so caring. His hair was like a mass of curtains the colour of white-gold, pouring over his shoulders. Bard couldn’t wait to card his hands through those locks and see if they felt as silken as they looked. Thranduil moved his hand from Bard’s chin to his cheek, his knuckles grazing the skin ever so gently. Bard bit down on his bottom lip as the angel went down to his knees, not moving his hands from their positions. Thranduil’s head was now a little below Bard’s so they weren’t eye-level but they never broke eye-contact. Warm dark eyes met crystalline blue ones, a beautiful contrast between the two. Thranduil’s fingers went around the side of Bard’s neck, his thumb resting on his right sideburn. Then, Bard made the decision to touch Thranduil because he knew the angel wanted him to, just from the look in his eyes.

Bard raised his right hand and placed it against Thranduil’s cheek. The angel closed his eyes and leaned into his palm, sighing softly at the contact of skin. Bard’s hand trembled a little and the fingers of his other hand continued to weave with the angel’s. Thranduil could feel the other man’s nervousness and he didn’t blame him. This was supposed to be a night of sweetness and pleasure. A night that both men could enjoy and remember for forever. Thranduil removed his hand from Bard’s neck and placed it against his other one, the one that rested on his own cheek. The difference in skin colour was prominent, Bard was just a couple of shades darker than Thranduil. The angel’s skin was warm and velvety smooth. The cheekbone was sharp and beautiful underneath his pad of his thumb as Thranduil opened his eyes. He moved his head to the side and pressed his lips to Bard’s palm tenderly. The pressure of the angel’s lips was like nothing Bard had ever experienced. It felt different to Maria’s kisses but just as gentle. A gentle moan made its way out of Bard’s mouth and Thranduil smirked, breaking his lips away from Bard’s skin and looking at him. They were so close now. Bard’s mind flashed back to the moment they had shared in the car on Christmas Eve. He didn’t want to pass up an opportunity like that again. So he kept his hand pressed against the angel’s cheek and he leaned down. To his happiness, the angel titled his head up and finally, their lips met.

There was no desperate passionate ripping off of clothes. It was gentle, _so_ gentle. The kiss was a simple declaration of what the two men felt for each other. Thranduil moved his left hand into Bard’s hair, finally running his fingers through the thick dark locks. Bard moaned slightly when he felt the angel’s fingers pull at his scalp. It was a brilliant feeling. His hand still rested on his cheek, his fingers moving down a little to grip the angel’s pale neck, the skin just as soft. Bard unlocked his fingers from Thranduil’s other hand and gripped his forearm, his hold gentle but full of yearning. Thranduil held Bard’s forearm in return as their lips moved together. The older man’s scruff rubbed against Thranduil’s skin and he loved it. It made him even more eager. One kiss became another, mouths coming together for the second time. It was the angel who moaned this time. Bard felt his aroused member move in his pants at that sound and he smiled into the kiss. He was in the depths of a heaven that he didn’t even know existed. The angel’s lips tasted like sugar, which only made him crave more. A third kiss transpired and Bard let go of the angel’s forearm, gliding his hand up his arm and into his white-blonde strands. As expected, Thranduil’s hair was like touching silk. Whatever shampoo he used, it definitely worked _really_ well. The angel’s free hand rested against Bard’s chest as they kissed quietly, soft wet sounds filling the room. Bard cradled the angel’s head in his hands, one on his neck and the other in his hair. Both men forgot about everything. It was like the world had stopped and it was just the two of them together, in a beautifully intimate moment. Thranduil broke away for air and Bard rested his forehead against his as they both caught their breath. The rest of their contact remained unbroken and Bard could feel his cheeks flush from desire.

“I’m sorry.” Thranduil whispered. Bard opened his eyes and pulled back to look at the angel. He looked worried, too worried. His eyes were full of fear and apology. Bard ran his fingers through Thranduil’s straight locks and stared down at him, wondering why he was saying sorry.

“For what?” He asked. The angel laid his right hand on Bard’s chest, joining his left one. The old soul had disappeared once gain and the young man emerged. It came to Bard’s attention that he was 11 years the angel’s senior. He had not really thought of it until now. But Bard did not believe that ages mattered. It was the attraction that mattered. The love mattered.

“For everything that might happen. Later.” Thranduil whispered, looking down at the floor. Both of them knew the consequences but they felt something deep for each other. They wanted to show one another how much they liked each other. This night could be their only chance to do so. Bard sighed and stroked the angel’s face. He leaned down and kissed Thranduil’s forehead. The angel closed his eyes at the feeling of the older man’s lips on his skin. It made him feel better.

“Take me to bed, Thranduil.” Bard murmured.

Thranduil opened his eyes slowly and looked up at the dark-haired man sitting on the bed. He became spellbound because of those warm sparkling eyes, the golden light illuminating around Bard’s silhouette, a light brown shade shining in his messy hair. Bard didn’t need to say the word “please” because Thranduil saw that request in his eyes and on his face. He didn’t say anything and accepted Bard’s proposal by raising his hands from the man’s chest and placing them on the column of Bard’s throat. He leaned up and claimed Bard’s lips with his own in a burning kiss that made his heart beat a different way. Bard wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck, drawing him in closer as the kisses became more passionate. The older man’s facial hair rubbed against Thranduil’s skin and it made him shiver with joy. He ran his hands over Bard’s throat before moving down his body to the hem of his sweater. He pulled at it and Bard knew what the angel wanted. He released his arm and broke his lips away from Thranduil’s. He grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head. Thranduil rested his hands on Bard’s slightly muscular torso, the skin warm and flushed beneath his fingertips.

“You are beautiful.” He whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Bard’s chest. Bard quivered with arousal and placed his hands on the angel’s shoulders. He pushed the robe off him, letting it pool to the floor, leaving the angel completely naked and bare before him. Bard fisted his hands in the silken locks and pulled his head back, crushing his mouth down on Thranduil’s ardently. It was magical. It felt so good. While Bard was occupied with the angel’s lips and hair, Thranduil’s hands went to Bard’s pants, undoing the button and the zipper. He placed his hand over the bulge in Bard’s pants and he heard Bard moan into his mouth which made him smile. Then, Thranduil slowly stood up, pulling Bard with them, their mouths never ungluing from each other. The angel was naked and Bard wanted to be too. Both he and Thranduil placed their fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down. Thankfully, he was already barefoot. Bard leaned down and tugged them off of his legs and his underwear quickly followed. Thranduil marvelled at Bard’s body, a little bit of chest hair on him and on his forearms but he liked that. He placed his hand on the older man’s shoulders and kissed him softly, gently pushing him down onto the bed. Bard broke away again and ran his hands over Thranduil’s chest as the angel’s body hovered over him.

“I never looked like that.” Bard muttered, Thranduil’s skin so smooth underneath his fingers. He stared into the angel’s eyes which were looking down at him tenderly, almost as if he was reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. Bard could feel the angel’s erect member brushing the inside of his thigh. It made his heart skip a beat. It was ridiculous what this man did to him just by touching or a look. Thranduil leaned down and locked his mouth with Bard’s, one hand in his hair and the other on the pillow beside Bard’s head. Bard sank into the throes of desire. He thought the sheets were going to swallow him, the pillow soft on the back of his head. He reached up and rested his hands on the angel’s neck, much of the white-blonde strands falling over one shoulder. They tickled Bard’s skin and he shivered once again. Thranduil let go of Bard’s lips and stared into his eyes which were full of wanting, the pupils dilated from intoxication.

“You’re trembling.” He whispered, running his forefinger down the older man’s cheek.

“I’m fine.” Bard replied, tugging the angel’s face down to meet his. They kissed again as their legs tangled together, skin touching skin. Bard opened his mouth and Thranduil gently slipped his tongue inside, taking full of advantage of Bard’s mouth. Bard’s hands moved to rest on Thranduil’s muscular arms as their tongues danced in their mouths, their lips moulding together perfectly. The angel pulled back again and reached across the bed to shut off the lamp but Bard stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t. I want to see you.” Bard begged and Thranduil obliged. He looked down at Bard and kissed him on the lips a couple of times before beginning a journey down his body. His lips glided over his collarbone and chest, reaching Bard’s left nipple. Bard’s hand curled in Thranduil’s hair as he closed his eyes, biting his lip as he felt the angel’s mouth moving down over his stomach and in between his thighs. Then, he felt something he had never felt before. At least, not this good.

“Oh, God…Thranduil…” Bard whined as he felt the angel’s tongue working wonders down there on his arousal. He gripped the sheets with his fingers and craned his neck back, letting out a slight moan that made Thranduil continue. Bard sighed and opened his eyes to see a white-blonde head in between his legs, the angel’s large hands on his thighs. He was so close and then, his orgasm climaxed. The angel licked the cum off the head of Bard’s member and Bard realised that he cumed into Thranduil’s mouth. He felt the angel let go of his arousal and he kissed his navel, his hands now on either side of Bard’s body. Thranduil made the journey upwards, showering the older man’s skin with gentle kisses and licks. He reached Bard’s other nipple and played with it for a bit. He moved to the side so that both men were lying next to each other, facing one another. Bard placed his left hand on the side of Thranduil’s head, the tangled locks still as silken as ever. They stared into each other’s eyes as their noses bumped against one another, breathing slowly. Bard sighed and pressed a kiss to the side of Thranduil’s mouth.

“My angel.” Bard whispered. Thranduil smiled and rested his hand on Bard’s neck, brushing his nose against his in an affectionate manner.

“My gem. Flung out of space.” Thranduil muttered with a small smile before his lips covered Bard’s. The kiss was soft, a simple declaration of their feelings. Bard pulled himself in closer so that his chest was touching the angel’s. The kiss deepened and both of them sighed as their tongues tangled, both trying to get the upper hand. Their arms locked around each other, holding one another closer as they kissed fully and passionately, like it was their last night on Earth. Thranduil intertwined his legs with Bard’s as they met in the depths of love and passion. And Bard never wanted this night to end. _Best New Year’s Eve ever._ He thought as he kissed the angel once again, their bodies moving as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, that was my first male/male sex scene. I can’t believe I wrote it. When commenting on this chapter, please be delicate when talking about the sex scene. It’s entirely new territory for me and I’ll welcome any advice on how to make it better. Is anybody still reading? Let me know if you are!


	10. A Shattering Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a romantic night together, Thranduil and Bard experience the costs of their actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I’m sorry for the extremely slow updates! I’ve got writer’s block, ugh! So here comes the heartbreak! I’m sorry (not really, actually!) but I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Bard felt warm. The sheets covered him up the chest, baring his arms, collarbone and shoulders. He sighed as he replayed the events of the previous night in his mind. The feeling of the angel’s lips pressed against his. His hands fisted in the white-blonde strands that felt like silk. The angel’s tongue pleasuring him in a beautiful way. Their hot bodies tangling together as their fingers ran up and down each other, greedy to touch every inch of skin. Bard had never woken up in such a way before. At least, not for many years. He smiled to himself as he snuggled into the warm bed, his dark hair splayed out across the pillow. He opened his eyes slowly and saw the angel standing at the window, already dressed in a pair of black suit pants and a pale blue dress shirt that was untucked. He was beautiful even from behind. _And he wants me._ Bard thought, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smile. The angel’s hair poured down his back like a silken river, his arms folded as the morning sunlight filtered through. Bard suddenly had a mental blank. All he remembered was what happened last night between him and Thranduil. He had woken to the world anew. He felt different.

“What town are we in?” Bard asked. Thranduil turned around to see that his gem was awake, his eyes sleepy but his face flushed from their…activity.

“We’re in Waterloo. Isn’t that terrible?” He smiled and then laughed. To Bard, it was like the sound of bells chiming. Everything about Thranduil was so angelic and perfect. He couldn’t believe that he had shared a bed with him and made love with him. He had imagined doing it in his head countless times but actually doing it was a totally different experience. It was way more satisfying. Bard laughed too and sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. Thranduil walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. He threaded his fingers with Bard’s and looked down at him with a grin.

“How do you feel?”

The father of three returned his gaze, his warm eyes sparkling. He squeezed Thranduil’s hand and smiled.

“Wonderful.” He whispered. The angel had never felt so happy. Elizabeth was totally cast out of his mind. He was fixated with the man he loved, lying before him naked under the bed sheets. He leaned down and kissed Bard gently. Thranduil’s lips were soft, their touch as gentle as a feather landing on skin. Bard raised his hand and placed it against the angel’s cheek, returning his kiss with equal emotion. He caressed his cheekbone and jawline with his fingers, pulling the angel in closer. Thranduil wrapped his arm around Bard’s neck, curling his fingers in his dark hair as they broke free to gasp in some air. Their foreheads touched and Bard leaned up to reach the angel’s lips again but Thranduil pulled back, sitting back up properly. Bard let his hand fall from the angel’s face and he stared up at him with sweet eyes.

“It’s late. You get ready and I’ll go and check us out.” Thranduil said. He pressed a kiss to Bard’s cheek which made his skin tingle. He stood up, threw on his matching suit jacket and walked out of the cabin.

Thranduil entered the main office which was deserted. Not one person was in sight. Empty beer bottles and New Year’s decorations were strewn across the walls and floor. He stepped carefully so that he would not slip on something. He approached the main desk and looked around for a clerk but he saw no-one. He rang the bell on the desk and after a few moments, a woman who looked like she was in her late 50s appeared. She wore a party hat that was a little lopsided but she was overall sober.

“Are you the folks in fourteen?”

“We’re checking out.” Thranduil nodded.

“Telegram came for you.” The clerk said. She quickly left the room and came back with a telegram. She handed it to Thranduil and he snatched it from her. _No-one knows I am here. Even Tauriel doesn’t know exactly where I am._ He was confused. He opened the telegram and read it. His eyes widened with shock as he read it. It wasn’t good news. It was the worst news that he ever could have imagined. _No…_ Thranduil was angry. That was the one word anyone would use to describe him at that moment.

“When did this arrive?” He asked without looking at the clerk, his fingers gripping the paper. Creases appeared from the hard pressure of how Thranduil was holding the telegram. His lips contorted in fury as his heart hammered against his ribcage fast.

“I ain’t a clock, sir. It came early. Between seven and nine.” The clerk answered with a shrug before disappearing out of the room. Thranduil didn’t care where she had gone or what she was going to do. He stared outside, the blinds causing the sunlight to stream into the office with odd shadows on the floor. He crunched the telegram in his hands, turning it into a ball. Thranduil placed it in the inside breast pocket of his suit before storming out of the office in a fit of rage.

Bard was loading their suitcases and bags into the boot when he saw the angel rushing towards the car, his piercing eyes burning like a hot blue flame. He watched as Thranduil pulled open the door on the driver’s side and leaned inside, as if he was searching for something that Bard could not see. The angel emerged from the car and came around to where Bard was standing. He did not even pay attention to the dark-haired man as he searched the boot thoroughly.

“Thranduil! What the hell-” Bard gasped but Thranduil cut him off.

“Where’s my gun?”

“Thranduil, hang on a minute. What’s going on?”

“I want my fucking gun.” Thranduil snapped, grabbing his suitcase and unzipping it. He pushed past all of his clothes which he had folded and packed neatly that morning when Bard had still been asleep. The flash of metal caught Thranduil’s eye and he fished out his gun, gripping it in his hand. Bard stared at the gun in shock as the angel moved in the direction of the cabins. He tried to block Thranduil’s way but the angel just shoved him out of the way.

“What are you doing? Thranduil, what happened?!” Bard screeched as he rushed after Thranduil who was heading towards the cabin next to the one they had stayed in. The angel kicked the door but it didn’t open.

“Open the door! You hear me in there? Right now!” He yelled. Bard placed his hand on Thranduil’s arm and gripped it hard. He was extremely worried. The loving look in the angel’s eyes that he had seen last night had disappeared and was replaced with one of venom.

“Thranduil, you’re scaring me. You can’t-”

“Stand out of the way, Bard.” Thranduil barked without looking at the older man. He reached for the door and found out that it was unlocked. He kicked open the door and raised his gun. The young man inside looked up and pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was half-dressed, pulling on a pair of pants with a white singlet already covering his torso. Thranduil’s eyes darted to the unmade bed where a black case was seated. It was opened and an elaborate reel-to-reel tape recorder was placed against the wall of the cabin, wires and microphones strapped to the wall, connecting to the other side. Which was the cabin Bard and Thranduil had stayed in. Bard stared at the equipment and realised what all the cables meant. The young man had recorded them. He had heard everything. From the time they went into the cabin to all the way into the night when they were making love. It was the identity of the young man that completely shocked Bard. It was the man they had met at the McKinley Hotel in Ohio. It was the man who had changed their flat tire and helped them. It was Christopher.

Thranduil cocked his gun and assumed his shooting stance, aiming the weapon directly at Christopher’s head. The young man, however, looked unfazed.

“Where’s the tape, you fucking bastard?” Thranduil growled. He stepped forward and began to rummage around in the black case, pulling apart the cords and wires with one hand, keeping the gun pointed at Christopher. Bard could only watch on silently, his lips parted in shock.

“How much is Elizabeth paying you for this? I can give you triple. Anything you want.” Thranduil stated. _Wait, his **wife** did all this?! _Bard realised it was not a coincidence that they had met Christopher a second time. _He has been following us all this time. Now, my angel will never see his little leaf again. I will never see my children again. They’ll be taken away from me._ Bard imagined his little Tilda screaming as the government snatched her away. One night had ruined everything.

“I wish I could oblige you, sir. But the tape is already on its way to your wife.” Christopher said, buttoning up his pants.

“That can’t be true.”

“My reputation rests on my proficiency, Mr. Greenleaf.” Christopher shrugged. There was tense pause. The atmosphere was thick with disdain and terror. Bard watched as Thranduil moved towards the young man, the gun still pointed at his head.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t, sir.” Christopher retorted bluntly. Thranduil’s shoulders became rigid as he placed his index finger on the trigger. A voice in the back of his mind told him not to shoot Christopher. _What good would it do? He has no reason to lie to me. Murdering him will make things worse._ So instead, he pointed the gun at the recording equipment and pulled the trigger.

But there was no gunshot.

There was just a click.

Thranduil tried pulling the trigger again but it jammed. It was the worst moment to have his gun not work. He shook it and tried for a third time. But it was the same result. Nothing. In sheer frustration, he hurled the gun at the recording equipment. Bard was still, watching the scene play out before him. Christopher remained motionless and Bard saw a faint smirk spreading across his lips. _I trusted him._ He now felt so guilty. He walked forward, approaching the angel.

“Thranduil…”

He didn’t say anything. He simply turned around, grabbed something out of his suit jacket and slammed it into Bard’s chest. Thranduil walked past his lover and out of the door, now standing on the pathway outside. Christopher was as cool and calm as a cucumber and didn’t do anything when Bard retrieved the gun, keeping hold of the ball of his paper in his other hand. He walked down the small hallway and opened the ball of paper. It was a telegram. He stopped at the door when he read the last line. Thranduil’s eyes were fixed onto the highway ahead. All he wanted to do was to get as far away as possible. His actions also involved Bard. Thranduil had dragged this handsome man into this mess. He had never wanted this to happen.

Bard finished reading the telegram and turned around to look at Christopher who was still half-dressed.

“How could you?” Bard snarled. But being angry didn’t suit Bard’s face or his persona. He was more upset and culpable than he was furious. Their road trip had taken a turn for the very worst. Bard knew there would be consequences in embarking on a relationship with the angel. But being recorded while being intimate in a cabin was not one he had thought of. He believed they had been safe but that was not the case. Not anymore.

“I am a professional, Mr. Bowman. It’s nothing personal.” Christopher shrugged his shoulders again. There was a silence that sucked all the air out of Bard’s body. He should have known Thranduil’s wife would do something like this. He knew that she didn’t like him from their first meeting in the angel’s house. Just the look in her eyes said something more than hate. Bard remembered jealousy. She was jealous that her husband preferred the company of a man working at a department store than her own. Bard shook his head at Christopher and looked at Thranduil who was finally returning his gaze.

“Let’s get out of here.” The angel said.

 

**

 

He still had the gun and the telegram in his right hand. He found an alleyway where some trash bins were positioned. Bard lifted the lid of one of them and tossed the pistol into the bin. _No use for it now._ He thought. It was Thranduil who had suggested Bard should throw it away. He didn’t need it anymore. Bard lifted the lid of another bin and chucked the telegram inside, rolling it up back into a ball again.

After disposing of the two items, Bard hurried back out onto the street. He came around the corner and saw Thranduil standing at a payphone, holding the phone with his right hand against his ear. Bard stepped back automatically but he unintentionally overheard the end of Thranduil’s conversation with a friend.

“…earliest flight into LaGuardia is tomorrow afternoon. Tell him that. Oh, Tauriel, I don’t know how to fix this. I haven’t the strength…”

Bard knew of Tauriel. _The redhead._ He said in his head. The angel had told him about her during their road trip. Bard already thought of her as a wonderful person. Thranduil had even agreed that they could all meet up one day. But it looked like that was not going to happen. Bard wanted nothing more than to hold the angel, _his_ angel, at that moment. He looked broken as he lowered the phone, his eyes closed as his head hung low. But Bard knew he couldn’t. Not now.

 

It was early evening, about 5:30ish. Neither of them cared about what time it was. It was silent in the car as Thranduil drove, approaching the city of Chicago. The sky was gloomy, dark grey clouds floating above. They matched the mood in the car. Bard was staring out of the window, completely silent and his heart wept. Nothing helped at all. Thranduil’s hands were white on the steering wheel. You could cut the tension with a knife. It was that bad. In the space of a night, everything had gone to shit. Both men thought that phrase. Everything had been so perfect. But perfection had turned into failure. Thranduil glanced the dark-haired man and sighed.

“Say something. Please.”

Bard didn’t respond and took a fake interest on the countryside they were currently passing through. So Thranduil tried again.

“What are you thinking? …You know how many times a day I ask you that?”

Bard blinked and looked at the angel. His eyes had returned to their gentle look and he licked his lips, his knuckles prominent as he gripped the steering wheel. The light was dark so Thranduil’s hair was like spun silver, falling over his shoulders perfectly.

“I’m sorry.” Bard whispered.

“What?” Thranduil gasped.

“I’m thinking that I am utterly selfish. And I-”

“Don’t do this, Bard. You had no idea. How could you have known?” Thranduil asked in a saddened tone. But Bard continued speaking, ignoring everything that the angel had just said.

“I should have said no to you. But I never say no. And it’s selfish because I take everything. My kids…they mean everything to me. I need them in my life. But I don’t know what I _want_. How could I if I just say yes to everything?”

Bard’s voice began to break and tears welled up in his eyes. Thranduil didn’t like seeing Bard cry. He always thought of him as strong. You would have to be, looking after three children by yourself. But seeing Bard let out his emotions was also a sign of strength. He had become vulnerable. Thranduil had done so in front of Bard. And now, the positions had been swapped. He pulled the car over to the side of the road, against a frozen bank of snow. Bard didn’t stop crying, closing his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks. Thranduil shut the engine off and looked at Bard. He leaned across and dried the older man’s tears, rubbing them away with his thumbs. Bard opened his eyes, relishing in the feeling of the angel’s hands cupping his face. He wrapped his left hand around Thranduil’s wrist as they stared into each other’s eyes. There was a very lovely moment of connection that occurred between the two men. Bard wished it could last forever.

“I took what you gave willingly. I wanted exactly what you wanted.” Thranduil whispered. There was a pause as Bard took in the angel’s words. _He is glad that we did it. He wanted it too._ The thought made his heart rise a little bit but that feeling would not last indefinitely. Thranduil ran his finger down Bard’s cheek and kissed his opposite one. Bard closed his eyes, savouring the pressure of the angel’s lips on his skin. Thranduil pulled back and turned back to the wheel, restarting the car.

“It’s not your fault, Bard. Alright?”

The dark-haired didn’t reply. The silence told Thranduil everything. There wasn’t anything either of them could do to make the situation better. Thranduil quickly pushed his foot down on the accelerator and they flew across the highway, getting closer and closer to Chicago.

 

**

 

It was 8pm when they reached Drake Hotel. Thranduil collapsed onto the bed gracefully while Bard went to the bathroom. When he emerged, he saw the angel still lying on the bed, on the phone to Tauriel again. He had taken his suit jacket off and was in the clothes that Bard had seen him in that morning, the dress shirt untucked and his feet bare. He rested his hand against the side of his head, keeping himself upright as he talked to the redhead.

“Thank you, darling. Oh, you know, shattered. Disgusted…I hope so…No…I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll be sure to thank him. Night.”

Thranduil hung up the phone and looked at Bard who was getting into the twin bed next to the one the angel was lying on. His eyes were full of sad tenderness as he looked at the dark-haired man, resting his left arm on the side of his body.

“You don’t have to sleep over there.” Thranduil said. Silence returned. Bard stared at the angel. He knew what he was suggesting. He wanted to refuse the offer but he couldn’t. _Elizabeth’s already getting the tape. A second time won’t do anything._ Bard thought. So he got up and joined Thranduil on the other. The angel wrapped his arms around Bard and hugged him tightly, kissing his neck softly. Bard held onto his angel firmly, keeping him close. He could hear his heart beating. It reminded him of the previous night, their hearts thumping as one. The perfect synchronisation.

Thranduil pulled back and stroked Bard’s face, bringing his forehead to the one of the man he loved. They entangled themselves together as their lips met in a searing kiss that sent sparklers crackling over Bard’s heart. He held Thranduil’s head in his hands, his fingers fisting in his hair. Thranduil held Bard close, their lips never ungluing from one another, his hand pulling at the dark messy hair, soft in between his pale fingers. And on that night, both men felt free again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor babies! But I needed to do this to them, the plot called for it! I love everyone who’s still reading, please leave feedback and I’ll try to update again soon!


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